Return To Sender
by eilatansayah
Summary: "Aaron." He could barely breath through the agony. "It's going to be OK, the Doctor is coming."
1. Prologue

**Prologue **

A pair of shaky hands sunk deep inside trouser pockets as the large gate clanged behind him. Aaron didn't hesitate for a moment, didn't even consider looking back. He immediately recognised the 4 x4 vehicle, Paddy and his mother standing uneasily outside, lopsided smiles gracing their faces. He took one unsteady step forward and then another, gradually gaining momentum and, when finally within feet of her, Chastity Dingle wrapped her arms tightly around his frame and paused against him. Aaron breathed in the familiar heavy perfume scent she always wore. Paddy grabbed at him next, the metal frames of his glasses pressing uncomfortably against Aaron's cheek as they embraced, but he didn't pull away.

"I'm so glad that's over," said Paddy. Aaron merely nodded. Chastity cupped his face, studying him intently as if she hadn't only seen him last week. He dipped his eyes. "You ready to return to the fish bowl, son?" He was, he knew this. Not in the beginning, not in those first days as he stared at the ceiling from his top bunk, and not even after a few weeks when he'd finally started getting used to the rules. Later though, at the end, as the hours dragged by and his ragged breaths echoed around the room, and as the ghost of his recent past filtered his mind's eye, curdling every ridiculous thought he'd ever had, then yeah, he knew he was ready.

Aaron took a last glance back. For six months, this had been his home, his address. He'd been staying at Her Majesty's pleasure. Six months for the homophobic attack on Jackson Walsh.

All because he'd kept his mouth shut.


	2. Chapter One

His room was massive, that's what Aaron noticed the most. The furnishings were fit for royalty. There was a desk in the corner and drapes, a plush duvet lay on his double bed and shelves brimming with forgotten trinkets. Aaron stood in the doorway surveying, not remembering how homely it all appeared. Reaching up, he absently flicked on the light switch and watched the faint shadows. The daylight energy-saving bulb was so unlike the harsh beams that lit up his cell. He remained in the doorway, bent his knees slightly and rocked softly on the carpet. He took a deep, steadying breath. His walls were littered with leaflets for club nights, posters of footballers and images of half-naked women. Nothing had been altered since he'd left. The women now seemed to smirk at him, their eyes full of knowing humour. Quietly, he began to remove them, one by one. He took his time, pulling each off carefully, collecting the blue tack on the back and then placing them on the bed. His actions were respectful. These women had served him well for years.

He unpacked his single holdall slowly, hanging each garment with precision. Upon closing the wardrobe, he heard a faint knock.

"This is for you, love." Chastity pressed a hot cup of coffee into his hands, the heat absorbed into his skin instantly. Aaron couldn't remember the last time he's had a hot drink, instead always receiving them luke warm. He savoured the slight scalding on his palms.

"You OK?" Aaron nodded. "You were quiet on the journey back."

"Just taking it all in."

Chastity stepped forward and clutched his chin, turning his face slightly from side to side. Faint patches of bruises spread across his face. Cuts were healing but they still looked dramatic against his pale skin. He allowed her only a moment before pulling away from her grasp. "I'm fine Mum."

"I wish you'd tell us what happened."

"Nothing happened."

* * *

"This is your cell." The place was small and square. A single window barely lit the room even though it was the day and the sun was shining outside. A bunk bed lined the wall on the left. He was instantly hit with the dim smell of a lavatory as he clocked the urinal in the corner of the room. "This is Goldie, your cellmate." Goldie was a small, harsh-looking man sitting in just a pair of shorts. He was perhaps in his fifties with his head closely shaved to a gleaming scalp, the glow of his body matching, he looked like someone with years of experience working outside. He halted polishing his shoes, wiped a grimy hand on his shorts and reached it out. Aaron barely dared stop clinging to the sack he carried long enough to shake it. "This is Aaron, show him the ropes, will you."

"This your first stint Kid?" Normally, Aaron would have taken offence at being spoken to like a child, but the fight had been recently knocked out of him. "Yeah."

"What you in for?"

"Assault." Goldie seemed to assess him for a moment, he drew his eyebrows together tightly, "figures."

"What about you?"

"Drug trafficking. How long you in for?"

"Six months."

"Ahh well," Goldie returned to polishing his shoe, he spat on the tip and aggressively rubbed a dirty sock over it. "I've only got another month."

"Right."

Dinner had been chicken, chips and peas. The gravy had been cold. He'd followed behind Goldie closely and kept his eyes downcast as they ate. The noise in the canteen was horrendous. Thunderous conversations piled into his ears. Other men sat around them and he was introduced one by one. They asked him questions and he was careful to ask only similar ones back.

He'd not had a single clue what prison was like. Not considered the drab-coloured walls, the clanging of bars or the aggressiveness of male banter. He felt vulnerable and exposed and when Goldie went to leave, he was close behind.

Luckily for Aaron, crying had always been a mostly silent affair. That night on his top bunk, the tears had trailed his cheeks for hours. He didn't sniff, hitch his breath or gasp once. He lay with his sleeve pulled over his fist, constantly wiping his sodden cheeks, with Goldie none the wiser.

* * *

Every morning was the same. A bill for some utility or another. The latest weekly discounts from his local super market. A free newspaper. And this morning, something else. Jackson brought the envelope closer to his face and examined the now recognisable emblem on the top right-hand corner. His licked his lips and stared for a moment. Outside, he heard a lorry arriving, ready to collect the bins lining the street below. Next door, he heard the neighbour shouting that she couldn't find her other shoe. Jackson just looked at the object in his hand. He felt himself go cold. They were five months down, he'd been counting. Every week, one step closer and it bothered him that he cared so much.

The letter was from the prison services.

Steeling himself, Jackson opened the envelope and scanned the text. Just as he's surmised. This was it, the four week notice of Aaron Livesy's release date, the 28th of October, almost a full six months.

* * *

Aaron entered the pub tentatively, closely guarded by Paddy and his mother. It was exactly the same. Every wooden surface kept bright and dust free. The beer taps polished. The carpet clean. Diane behind the bar, just as she'd been since he'd arrived in the village and his family propped up against it, just as they'd been since he'd arrived in the village. They all grinned and surrounded him instantly. Cain and Zak clapped him on the back, Lisa embraced him tightly. A lump rose to Aaron's throat. He hadn't wanted to do this, instead preferring to crawl under that plush-looking duvet and burrow his head against the no longer lumpy pillows. Paddy had pleaded for him, "Just one drink," he'd said with bright eyes. Aaron had only been home for five hours, the need to cry constantly following him. He'd agreed for two reasons, one because for the last six months he'd done exactly what people had asked of him, no questions asked, and two, because he'd made a decision that he was going to live his life, and try to make something good from his past mistakes.

"Drink?" Asked Cain.

"Yeah ta, lager." It didn't taste good, burning his throat as he swallowed. He smiled forcefully at Cain's eye-balling, he knew the other man was staring at his bruising. "That's looking better." Cain pointed at the eye that only a few weeks ago had been swollen shut.

"Yeah, it is." Aaron took another gulp, the liquid stayed in his mouth, he wanted to spit it back out, the taste nothing like the memories he'd entertained. Cain inched towards him, closing the gap conspiratorially, "You tell me who did that and I will sort them out."

"He's not an issue anymore."

The pub was full, brimming with regulars, all ready to say their polite 'welcome backs'. It was utterly disconcerting although not unexpected. There wasn't a single scowl, no tut, not even from some of the more disapproving residents. A homophobic attack shouldn't draw a hero's welcome but Aaron knew why, he got why Edna Birch placed a hand on his arm and smiled when she saw him. Knew why the gossip was kept to a minimum by Betty whilst he was in the room. He hated it. Felt like they were all able to take him and turn him inside out, exposing everything he was.

"Paddy," Aaron whispered, "I want to go back." Paddy pursed his lips together, "Come on, Aaron, there all here for you."

"Everyone's looking at me."

"You're being paranoid." He wasn't, he could see Valerie elbowing Eric Pollard and nodding in his direction. "One more hour?" Aaron agreed but not because he wanted to, it was merely because leaving would cause a bigger fuss than staying. His family had entered a celebratory mood, his Mother cackling merrily, Zak alternating his pint with a whisky and even Charity turning up to welcome him back. He became momentarily confused when Debbie entered, forgetting that his cousin and her daughter Sarah had returned from Jersey only a few weeks previously. Debbie saddled up next to him and punched him on the arm, "So I hear you're gay then." The din from the rest of the family lowered. Aaron licked his lips, "yeah."

"Was it worth going to prison for?" A six-month stretch to cover his homosexuality only for everyone to quickly find out anyway. "No, it wasn't."

She arched her eyebrows, "Are you going to be alright?"

"I'll have to be, won't I."


	3. Chapter Two

**Thank you as always to Sylvain for wading through my words.**

* * *

"You look like shit." There was a small mirror above the sink, barely large enough to see his entire face. Aaron's eyes were tiny, two pinpricks. He rubbed a hand over them. "Didn't you sleep well last night?"

"No, I didn't."

"Don't worry", Goldie stretched out on the bottom bunk before reaching for the folded t-shirt on a nearby stool, "the first nights always the worst, although you didn't cry. I'm surprised."

Aaron shifted, relieved that he'd not been heard. He frowned, "Why?"

"Cause. You're in for assault. It's always the ones that act like tough little arseholes outside that are the biggest wimps in here."

"Who said I was tough?" Goldie looked him up and down and smirked, "I've got you pegged, mate."

That immediately angered Aaron. Only a few days ago, a statement like that would have made the adrenalin course through his veins and make his heart rate flare up. He felt the beginnings of it now. He was ready to get into Goldies' face, square his jaw and hold his gaze. He was ready to lower his voice and say, 'you're not my mate'. He was ready to tell him to 'stay out of my way from now on'. Aaron remained still.

"Yeah," Goldie stood up and pulled on a pair of trousers, "just as I thought." He walked over to the mirror as Aaron shifted out of the way. He slid a hand over his shiny head and checked his reflection. "Mind you, some would say it's better to be the tough idiot in here. Better that than people thinking they can take advantage of you."

"Ain't no one going to take advantage of me."

Goldie grinned, "We'll see."

They'd allowed him a few items of clothing. He'd stuck to his hoodie and track suit bottoms, socks pulled over them. Before coming in, he'd felt that this was safest, but now he felt like a target. Like a stupid little punk kid who didn't have a clue. The men around him were two kinds: career criminals, and those who ended up here by foolishness. It was easy to spot the difference. During breakfast, they stayed segregated in huddles, the noise not quite as loud as the previous evening, perhaps early mornings were dulled by sleepless nights on thin mattresses? Tattoos covered the arms of the career criminals and they all shared the close-shaven head of Goldie. Their bodies were hard and lightly defined. Those here via foolishness kept their heads down. They were marked out by floppy hair, or glasses, or by their shirt tucked into trousers rather than jeans. It confused Aaron, he thought there must be someone in between? He scanned the canteen from the queue, breakfast tray in hand, Goldie in front. Maybe not.

"Honey, I'm home!" The chatter stopped. Aaron turned his head towards the voice just like every other person in the room. "Woo hoo!" the voice screeched out. "Woooooo hooooo!" It belonged to an inmate being personally escorted by a guard. He made a show of stretching out his limbs and bending at the knees, "God, isolation's a bitch!" He pranced around lightly on long legs, grinning like an idiot, his movements directed towards the back of the room. "You can't keep a fucker like me down!" Aaron became aware of another man rising in his chair, glaring. The two of them squared up to each other from a distance.

"Get in the queue, Daniels, before you end back in isolation!" This Daniels guy was pulled lightly on the arm by a guard. He saluted and spun around. The other guy remained watching. Daniels loosely weaved, ducked and spun towards the back of the line. The other guy retook his seat. Daniels' eyes fell on Aaron, his movements lost their provocativeness but the smile remained. "Who's this fucker, Goldie?"

"He's name's Aaron Livesy, he's new," Goldie moved slightly closer. Daniels raised his eyebrows excitably. "Hi, Livesy."

"Hi."

"I appreciate what you've done for me."

"Huh?"

"What you've done for me." Aaron flashed a look towards Goldie, the other man seemed very annoyed. "I don't get ya."

"You've got me a tray." Aaron looked down at the beige piece of plastic in his hand. "And you've marked my place in the queue." Daniels loomed above Aaron, defined arms crossed in front of his chest as he looked down. His hair was cut to the length of the career criminals, dusting his scalp with dark ginger colouring. Aaron just looked at him.

No one had returned to their previous conversation and Aaron felt his heart rate increase. He wasn't used to this, his previous confrontations having always been on a level playing field, even when they weren't. The realisation hit him in one. In the outside world, you were marginally protected by society and the knowledge those around you were civilised. Every bad thing he'd heard on the news happened to other people, surely nothing that terrible happened to you? But in here, he felt wall-to-wall with lawlessness and unpredictability. That they were all rubbing shoulders and it was only a matter of time. He licked his lips, "here."

Daniels' smile widened, his large white teeth gleaming, "Ta. You can take the spot at the back." Aaron turned to move. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?" He didn't want to play this game anymore.

"To thank me." No one had still said a word and no guard seemed to notice. That or they were deliberately busy.

He responded quietly, "thank you." Aaron didn't go to the end of the queue, instead walking past, head down and back to his cell, where he laid down for the rest of the day, feeling sick.

* * *

Chastity lost her head in those first few days. Literally. She alternated between two states. She'd cry and yell, beg whoever was with her to help her son. Indiscriminately accuse everyone of not trying hard enough. Refuse to talk. Then she'd be in a daze, utterly unable to function. The whole village felt for her, though finding it difficult to console her. After all, Aaron assaulted that lad the papers named as Jackson Walsh and just because he was gay. To everyone, this seemed abhorrent. How do you help someone despite agreeing with the outcome? This is why most stayed away, all except the small circle of Paddy, Cain and Adam. The four of them locked in by one stupid idiot's fears.

"I'm gonna tell them all." Cain looked at his sister incredulously, "what would be the point of that?"

"I don't know."

"It's not gonna change anything." He was right, of course, and what everyone else thought wasn't the issue anyway. Their real fears where that only a few weeks ago, Aaron had sat in a fumed-filled car, deliberately breathing in dangerous levels of carbon monoxide, all because he couldn't handle being gay. Now he was still gay, in prison, and there was absolutely nothing they could do to help him. This was Chastity's real fear, because every time the phone rang, she thought it was the prison saying her son had succeeded this time.

* * *

"Are you getting up?" Adam could see a single eye peering from beneath the duvet, a clawed hand clutched at the pillow. "I'm hung over." Adam grinned, grabbed the cover's edge and yanked it down, his best mate wasn't too impressed. "You had a skin full during the celebrations last night then?" Conceding to his fate, Aaron raised up, slumping against his pillow, "Not particularly, it's just been a while since I've drunk, seems to affect me more now."

"Don't worry, mate, I'll get you back on track." More than anything, Adam had wanted to be around for the release date, kicking himself when he had to go away for a farmers' fair. Aaron had known and not seemed to mind, Adam had been gutted, he was really worried for his friend.

"So how is it?" he kicked off his muddy shoes and climbed onto the bed. He had an hour before needing to tend to the sheep.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He assessed Aaron's features, noting the discolouration of bruising. They looked so much better that when he'd visited. "Our Holly might come and talk to you."

Aaron chewed on his lip, "I figured."

"I think she just wants to hear from you what happened, you can't blame her really. It was a shock to find out her ex-boyfriend was gay after all." Aaron stared at the pattern on the duvet.

"Anyone else said anything?"

"Yeah, Debbie, Victoria, Pearl. I've only been back one day."

Adam caught his eye, "and you're sure you're OK?"

"I'm sure."

* * *

For exactly three weeks, a feeling of intense anxiety followed Jackson. It followed him at work, at home. He woke with the feeling twisting at his insides, sat whilst it put him off his food. He knew what caused it, the feeling becoming understood the moment it arrived. It was guilt. The moment Aaron's sentence was past, there it was, guilt.

That previous month, he'd sat angrily nursing a black eye and injured pride, explaining to the officers that Aaron Livesy had attacked him because he'd simply pulled on his arm to motion it was time to go. The officer had been dubious, "So you knew each other then?"

"Yeah."

"And he knew you were gay?"

"Yeah."

"And he didn't mind you sitting with him as you'd all planned to go into town."

"No." The name tag read Constable Howley, his eyebrow raised as he scratched his head. "So, Aaron Livesy didn't mind sitting with a gay man and arranging to go into town with him. But did have an issue with the same gay man touching his wrist as he explained it was time to go into said town?" Jackson had levelled his eyes, "yeah." Even now, he couldn't understand why he'd not told the whole truth. So what if Aaron was gay? Why should he help keep that secret? But Jackson had and because he had wanted to punish Aaron, he'd lied to the police, saying it was all down to his sexuality and not that Aaron was scared witless at fancying another bloke. He hadn't expected Aaron to keep quiet.

So now he didn't know quite what the hell he was doing, standing inside Emmerdale Village, knocking on the red door of Smithy Cottage, pulse racing.

"Hi." Paddy had been barely responsive. He didn't know this man, just that he wasn't Aaron's father. "I was hoping I could have a word."

His friends told him he was crazy, they'd all said it was Aaron's own fault for ending up inside. All he had to do was confess and the story would have ended differently. Jackson knew they were right and he hated the hold this had over him.

Politeness had ruled Paddy's responses and Jackson was lead into the house, offered a seat and a coffee. The churning in Jackson's gut prevented him from doing either. "I'm sorry." The words came rushing from Jackson's mouth. "I'm so sorry about this."

"It's not your fault."

"I should have told the police he was gay."

Paddy looked thoughtful, "maybe, and maybe Aaron should have told the truth. This is not your fault." A little part of Jackson thought he'd come for absolution, thought that the forgiveness of Aaron's loved one would ease the guilt. The large, kind, spectacled eyes of Paddy did no such thing. Jackson took that seat offered and the coffee, he sat nursing it. "Have you seen him?"

"Yeah, last week."

"Was he OK?"

Paddy nodded, "he was quiet, but then Aaron's always quiet." Those words did nothing to comfort him. He knew Aaron, understood him well in just the short time they were seeing each other. Realised his awkward vulnerability, got his intense self-loathing, it had made Jackson sick when he'd heard of the suicide attempt.

"I'd like to go see him." Paddy looked up sharply. "Do you think he will see me?"

"I'm not sure."

"I want to apologise."

"You've done nothing wrong."

Jackson took a deep breath, "OK, then, I just want to see that he's OK."

There wasn't a great deal of weighing up, Paddy barely hesitated, "I'll get you his address, you can ask him for a visitation form."


	4. Chapter Three

Aaron felt the slight thud as something hit the duvet covers he was curled under, he knew there was someone standing beside him. "Livesy?" Turning over would have been counterproductive to his aims. It would have connected him with that other person and then by extension to everything that was going on inside his cell and beyond. He wanted to alone, needed to be an island. He stayed perfectly still.

"Fine." This man, who Aaron knew was Goldie, rolled onto the bunk below, the movement slightly jarring Aaron until he curled tighter, bracing himself. "The guards are getting worried about you, two days of not eating is going to get yourself hulled down to psych, you don't want that. They'll pump all kinds of drugs into you and then you won't have a fucking clue what's going on."

On Aaron's second morning, that inmate Daniels had forced Aaron to the back of the queue again, everyone watching. During refs that same day, he'd sat the other side of the room smiling at Aaron. The next morning, he'd stepped into the shower next to Aaron and watched him, smiling his massive grin until Aaron couldn't continue washing, too unnerved and left. On the fourth day, he was left alone, but on the fifth, he had his lunch taken from him.

For the life of him, Aaron didn't have a clue why he was letting this happen; before, it wouldn't have happened. The roles would have been reversed and it was always him that did the terrorizing. He'd follow that kid, Paul Grimm, at school and steal his dinner money. He would abusively shout names at Toby Messing because he was overweight, and then kick the shit out of Darren Jones just because he was effeminate. Now though, in here, he felt totally ineffectual, shocked into submission by his situation. The men around him were bigger, meaner and more dangerous. At school, he could never understand why these kids didn't just hit out, why did they just take it? He was more than capable of decking someone, how could they be so different? In particular, he used to silently will Darren Jones to curl his hand into a fist and land one on Aaron's cheek, maybe that or actually he wanted Darren to kiss him. Neither happened and as the tip of his boot would connect with Darren's jaw, Aaron hated himself more and more. He was now just like those people that he couldn't understand, he was weak and pathetic.

"Are you going to say anything, Aaron?"

"No."

Goldie snorted, "well at least you're not dead."

Aaron didn't respond.

"That thing, that landed on your bed, it's an apple, just fucking eat it will you."

* * *

Insisting that you make bacon sandwiches for your mate because you weren't around the day before, on his release date, seemed a good penance to Adam. It meant he'd be late, his dad having to sort out the sheep, but under the circumstances, he would probably get away with it. His dad understood, especially since the truth came out. Before had been a different story, back in the months before the suicide attempt, no one could understand Adam's devotion to Aaron, but that's because no one knew. They didn't know the way he did that Aaron was gay, they didn't know that he was seeing Holly out of desperation and they didn't know the self-loathing. Adam understood it all and even whilst urgently trying to break up Aaron and Holly's relationship, never wanted to stop looking out for his mate. When Aaron's sexuality was exposed, his dad had cornered him in the kitchen, arms crossed, a serious expression gracing his features. He'd said, "I know you're really worried about Aaron. You need time off to see him, just let me know, OK?" Adam had been overwhelmingly grateful. Every week, for six months, he'd gone in and, at some point, it was two. He'd seen the quiet, barely reactive Aaron in the beginning and then the calmer Aaron. Later, he'd seen the Aaron who was positively on top of the world, which had seriously confused the hell out of him and everyone else visiting. At the end, he'd seen the Aaron, bloodied and bruised on a ventilator, tears leaking from his eyes even as he couldn't speak. Adam had gone home that day and slumped down the kitchen wall crying his eyes out, his dad had wrapped his arms around him protectively.

"There you go." The massive pile of bacon sandwiches on Aaron's lap seemed to pull him from his hangover, he smiled tiredly and took a tentative bite, relaxing into the taste after a few. "I needed this. Cain forced me to get wasted, the lager tasted like shit in the beginning, but it's amazing how quickly you get used to it."

Adam grinned as he bit into another. "Did you get bacon sandwiches inside?"

"Not really, sometimes you'd get burnt bacon with your dinner and they'd give you some shitty bread, you could do with it what you wanted. It's not the same as this though." Adam had to agree, there was something about fresh bread with the butter melted from the heat of the bacon and a dollop of brown sauce. Again, Adam smiled and held the sandwich out a little, "to freedom." Aaron met the sandwich with his own, 'clinking' it slightly.

"So, when you back to work?"

"Monday. I have one more day to acclimatize to the village before Cain starts treating me like a glorified car washer again."

Adam looked at Aaron sombrely, "you'll see Jackson."

The sandwich lowered, "I know."

"It doesn't bother you?"

Aaron stared at the corner of his room, "nope."

* * *

Daniels was about a foot taller than Aaron. He knew this because as they stood facing each other Aaron's eye line levelled with Daniels Adam's apple. It protruded from his broad, thick neck, almost knocking Aaron out as it bobbed up and down when he swallowed. "You see, Livesy," Daniels moved to wrap an arm around Aaron's shoulder, he held up a photo, "isn't she beautiful, that's my Louise." His breath was hot and minty, hiding a hint of smoke. It made Aaron want to vomit.

"What about her."

"We've been married for sixteen years today."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

Daniels heavy arm pinned Aaron to his side. A couple of inmates walked past, they wore nasty sneers on their faces, all seeming to delight in Aaron's discomfort.

"Sixteen years today. It's just a shame I've spent twelve of them behind bars."

"Awful." Something in Aaron's response angered Daniels, he crowded Aaron back against the wall, creating a barrier he couldn't escape. "You taking the piss, Livesy?"

"No."

"Sounds like it."

"I wasn't."

"I think you should apologise." Almost every day since entering prison, Aaron had been made to apologise to Daniels or to thank him. Walking in the same room required an apology, eating his dinner required a thank you, being in the queue required an apology, being allowed to bend down to pick up his soap required a thank you, it went on and on. "I'm sorry."

Daniels pressed his chest against Aaron's, it squashed him back into the thick glass panel. "you want to know how you could really apologise to me?"

He didn't, didn't even want a single suggestion, "how?"

"Well Livesy, as I said, it's mine and Louise's wedding anniversary today and I would sure love to speak to her, only I've used up this week's phone card." A large hand cupped Aaron's cheek, his skin was rough and hard, "you want to show me how sorry you are, I recommend you giving me that card." Aaron closed his eyes, in that moment willing himself not to cry, "OK, it's in my room, I need to go get it."

"Great," Daniels stepped back, he grinned, "I fancy a walk, we'll both go."

* * *

His first full weekend a free man and Aaron was exhausted, who knew being able to make his own decisions could take it out of you? He could now sleep, get up, eat and go anywhere when he wanted. Yesterday, this had been overwhelmingly unnerving and luckily his surrounding family had unwittingly taken most of the responsibility. They'd driven him home, laid out a welcome back buffet and lead him to the pub, alcohol had decided when it was time to go to sleep. Today, however, he'd not been directed in anyway, his Mum and Paddy merely watching him from the other sofa, driving Aaron crazy until he had no choice but to leave. Once outside, he'd been close to a panic attack, the simple act of deciding to go for a walk too overwhelming. In prison, there had been a court yard, he'd not seen a tree, leaf or a blade of grass in six months. Not had the option to go north, south, east or west and not stop until he felt like it. Eventually, Aaron had peeled himself from the wall when Pearl had spotted him and came over to make sure he was alright. He'd shoved his hands into his pockets, kept his head low and headed south. That was four hours ago.

"What are you doing?" His mother was so intent on the task at hand that she didn't appear to hear Aaron's approach on the stairs. He'd entered Smithy Cottage to find no one around, immediate relief flooding him, it meant he wouldn't have to contend with anyone. He was disappointed to realise his mum was up stairs. Upon hearing his voice, Chastity jumped slightly, bringing her hand to her chest and smiled, relieved. "Not a good idea to sneak up on me unless you want to see me in an early grave."

"What are you doing?" There was an irritation in Aaron's voice that he didn't even try to hide. "I thought I'd do some washing for you."

"I can do my own washing."

"I know but I was downstairs cooking some tea and I thought whilst I was here, I do this as well."

Aaron sighed angrily and crossed his arms, leaning against his bedroom wall. He'd struggled with people fussing before he went to prison but now it was even worse. To always have someone around, always in your face, never a moment of privacy, it often made him want to hit something. Aaron felt this now, the agitation forming in his arms, felt it curling his fists. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

His mother waited, slightly on edge, sensing Aaron's struggle. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and then seemingly happy, turned her back and picked up a duster.

Abruptly, Aaron pushed himself off the wall. "Have you been moving my stuff?"

"No."

"Yes, you have," He stormed over to his chest of drawers, upon the top were a couple of CDs and a book, he pushed them slightly before spinning around to face her. "What have you done with my stuff?"

"What stuff?"

He looked at her, eyes wide, panic tripping up his words, "there were a few bits of paper, one had an address on it."

"Oh," she turned to the shelf above and pulled down something neatly folded, "do you mean this? I moved it to polish."

Aaron snatched it from her.

"Aaron!"

Shakily, he unfolded it, silently reading the four lines for reassurance. The agitation came back, doubled this time, he turned on his mother, "Why the fuck can't you leave me alone?"

"I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need your fucking help!"

"Don't talk to me like that!"

Aaron bared his teeth, scrapping them over his bottom lip. What was wrong with this stupid bitch? Was she intent of fucking everything up? He roughly folded the paper and shoved it in his pocket before turning to leave.

"Aaron, no, wait." He felt hands tugging on his arms, pulling back, willing him to stay. Aaron broke free from her grip. "Get off me!"

"Just don't go, stay and talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to you!"

"Why not?" Chastity threw her arms up questioningly, "why can't you open up to me? Whose address is that?" She clasped his face between her hands, "Who hurt you in prison?"

"No one." Chastity began crying then, just like she had in prison. Aaron, in those first moments of consciousness, when he was black and blue and had just woken from his coma, was aware of nothing but her tears. They'd encompassed every one of his senses and they were felt even more keenly than his own pain.

"Mum, go home. I can look after myself."

* * *

**Hi everyone. I don't know what's quite going on but I am having a few problems with uploading this story. Firstly, for some reason the chapters are not showing up when I post them. Secondly, I keep inserting the horizontal lines between segments but they won't always save. These are small issues because obviously you are finding the story anyway and the horizontal line thing is just to imply a scene, but I thought I'd mention it anyway.**

**I hope you are all enjoying the story.**


	5. Chapter Four

Aaron kept his head down as Daniels walked into the room, sinking into the plastic chair, he folded his arms protectively and watched on edge. He'd learnt that this was the best thing, keep small and don't move and hope more than anything that he didn't catch Daniels attention. Luckily, Aaron came to realise by the third week that this invisibility could be maintained quite frequently. He realised that he wasn't special, hadn't been singly bestowed the honour of being Daniels' plaything. Daniels was indiscriminate, there were quite a few inmates earmarked, and after the initial focus in the first week, Aaron now found himself rotated amongst the others. There was nothing that seemed to link Daniels 'toys', not age, wealth, education or crime.

There were a lot of men in here for various reasons and, for the most part, they got along quietly. There weren't really any gangs, and no religious or ethnic pecking order, although prisoners tended towards same-ethnicity friendships. Despite this equilibrium, there were men in here that still hated each other and they all had one thing in common: they all seemed to have reason. Some of them hated for religion, for colour and for beliefs, they hated because of sexuality or background or maybe just because one looked at another one in a funny way. But there it all was, reason. Daniels, however, just picked at random, the motive was not hate and the violence intermittent. With Daniels, it seemed he got off on emotionally terrorizing people, liked to see them hug the wall as they try to get to their cell, not dare to shower in case he came in, see them sinking in their plastic chair to make themselves small.

Today, Aaron's luck was in, which meant someone else's wasn't. This time, a wiry, skinny man with glasses and a bald patch, in for drink driving offences, was the target. He watched as Daniels convinced the man to lie on the floor and have a chair placed over him, Daniels then sat on it and carried out a conversation with someone else, seemingly as if the other man wasn't even there. Other inmates jeered. Aaron wanted to laugh from relief.

"You comfy there, Daniels?" If there was a contradiction to Daniels, then it was another inmate called Stalk, this being the same man who had squared up to Daniels in the canteen on that first morning. The two of them were mortal enemies, Stalk seemingly determined to ruin Daniels' fun each time. This made Stalk the good guy in Aaron's eyes, except for the fact that he didn't do it to help anyone, he did it merely to stop Daniels. They'd ended up fighting a few times, Stalk taking himself seriously, always flanked by other men, having a look of someone ready to commit murder. Daniels was always alone, having not aligned himself with anyone. He would joke and shout wise cracks, his movements uncaring and fluid besides the more stoic Stalk, and he always had a massive grin on his face, daring Stalk to hit him. There was something graceful in his taunts, something provocative, an unhinged danger. Daniels was definitely a psychopath.

"I said, are you comfortable?" Aaron watched Stalk and four other men surround Daniels, he seemed unconcerned.

"No, what you actually said is, 'you comfy there, Daniels'. Seriously Stalk, when threatening someone, it's best to be accurate."

"Let him up." Daniels folded his arms, and shook his head, he looked perplexed, "Sorry?"

Stalk pointed to beneath the chair, he spoke clearly, "let him up."

A small group of inmates had stopped to watch, everyone knowing that this would go one of two ways, both depending on Daniels. If he fancied a spot of isolation, he'd have tried to aggravate Stalk into a fight. If not, then he'd walk away. "Oh dear god!" A mocking expression graced Daniels face as he looked exaggeratedly between his legs, "what are you doing down there, man, that floor is filthy!"

Daniels made a show of getting up, he moved the chair and held out a hand to the man on the floor. His wide grin was that of a Cheshire cat, untrusted and to be approached warily, the hand was uneasily taken and then the man scurried off. Daniels flashed a grin once more at Stalk and strutted away, his movements designed to be challenging, but Stalk didn't rise. Just as Daniels was near the exit, he caught Aaron's eye. "Hey, Livesy, how you doing?" but he didn't stop or even slow down. Aaron sunk further in his chair.

* * *

Prisons, as Aaron quickly discovered, were well heated. He realised this when he rose on one of those chillier mornings to find himself sweating, and when he didn't need to cover up at night. He also realised when, one day, Daniels had followed him into the shower, stolen his clothes and towel and forced Aaron to walk back to his cell, naked. That day, he hadn't been cold, the shivers instead coming from the humiliation and vulnerability of wandering about with his arse hanging out. Some of the inmates howled laughing. A guard had stopped him, disinterestedly, and asked who was responsible, Aaron hadn't bothered to reply. And later, he hadn't told his prison counsellor, even when she encouraged him to confide. That day another inmate grabbed Aaron's face and pushed him down, simulating oral sex. Aaron had pulled away and punched him in the face. It had been a shock to everyone involved and both parties narrowly avoided isolation.

In the cell, Goldie threw him a towel, "Now, that was impressive." Aaron wasn't in the mood, his fist hurt like hell and his temper hadn't diminished. "You haven't lost the tough little idiot inside you after all."

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Hey," Goldie sat down in his chair, "don't be like that with me or I'll take back my towel." The adrenalin shook Aaron's body, he wiped a shaky hand through his wet hair.

"So, why can't you do that to Daniels? Why can't you stick up for yourself around him?"

"I don't know!" Aaron's breathes came out jaggedly, he leant his head against the bed frame. The truth was, he really didn't know. His sentence had been such a shock despite how expected it was. It had muted him and dulled his reactions, and every part of him was terrified. Daniels started his attacks and Aaron had been paralysed by the unknown, he was left open, an easy target, pray. Deep down, Aaron always knew that he was terrified of everything, that it was all an act, one step away from being found out. Just now, when that man had grabbed his head, that hadn't been him sticking up for himself, Aaron had merely reacted out of fear. That same fear that had motivated everything part of his life up to prison. He suddenly realised that maybe he could wear that part again, grab his 'tough little idiot' mask and carry on pretending. Maybe that was how Daniels would leave him alone.

* * *

Jackson didn't know exactly how long he should hold out, a week, two, a month. The letter had read the following:

_Aaron, I know you didn't expect to hear from me and I am surprised at myself for doing this. I would like to come and visit you, I have no idea of my reasoning and I have no intention of being hostile. _

_I would really appreciate it if you would give me a small bit of your time._

_Jackson._

He'd read that note to friends, who had wanted him to rip it up immediately. They'd been incensed, trying to make him see that it looked as if he was in the wrong.

"He's in prison." Jackson said this as if it held up some explanation. One friend slammed down his coffee mug, "yeah, and?"

"and… he wouldn't be there if it wasn't for me."

"Shut the fuck up, Jackson."

"I feel responsible."

The friend snorted, "yeah and the rest."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, we all saw you before any of this happened. You were on cloud nine, head over heels for Aaron Livesy."

Jackson shook his head, "So…"

"So, for weeks, he messed you around and you let him because you wanted him that badly. You were constantly checking your phone, hanging around near that village, repeatedly asking him out. You even went to his court case! I know you, Jackson, when you fall for someone, it doesn't go away."

"You're wrong."

"Don't do it."

Except he had, not immediately, not until he thought, in his own head, that he'd got it clear. This wasn't about loving or lust or even liking Aaron Livesy. This was about the part he'd played in his incarceration. It was because that day in the pub, he had goaded Aaron, had stuck around despite the agitation it caused and had smirked as Aaron's mate went on about needing to get Aaron a girlfriend, and later he had lied to the police about the motive of the assault.

Yes, he had sent that letter, and worried and fretted and by four weeks exactly, when he didn't hear back, he gave up and tried to leave Aaron Livesy from his thoughts.


	6. Chapter Five

For weeks, the tension between Daniels and Stalk escalated. Daniels humiliated one of stalks friends, and Stalk returned the favour, only with less success. Daniels was unflappable, always responding with a flippancy that Aaron envied even whilst despising the man. He couldn't do that, couldn't be so controlled even when four men were threatening him, even when one of them had gripped an arm behind his back whilst another was punching. Daniels response had been to add nuts to one of Stalks mate's meal, he had an allergy and whilst it didn't kill him, he still ended up in hospital. Everyone knew what had happened, it couldn't be proven of course, and so things escalated. Stalk put Daniels' arm in a sling, Daniels urinated on Stalks toothbrush and in the end, both of them ended up in isolation. Aaron was relieved, he looked forward to a few days off.

"You're in a good mood." It was true, Aaron was even humming to himself, not something he'd ever really engaged in before. He shrugged and continued shaving.

"Let me guess," Goldie made a show of thinking, "Daniels is in isolation and you're missing him real bad." Aaron grinned, "Yeah, that's it."

The peace was almost euphoric, he felt like a school kid released for the six-week school holiday. He stood tall in the canteen line, walked down the centre of the recreation room and extended his time in the shower. It made Aaron also realise just how much Daniels had affected his life in just that short time. The joy from not being scared gave him a natural buzz, he was constantly high for three giddy days and he didn't want to think about when it would end. Goldie noticed it, too, "you on something, mate?"

"Nope," he washed the foam from his chin, "just savouring." He was savouring, taking in every moment. He'd found himself freed up these last few days to really think about Daniels. At first, it had just been how much he hated him, and then the combination of elation and lust for revenge had him carefully writing out scenarios in his head, scenarios of retribution, of humiliation, and some of them even involved killing. That's how desperate he felt at times. The worst part was that it wasn't even under constant attack, for the most part he was left alone, for days even. It was the absence, the anticipation that wore him down, that constant edge of adrenalin, never knowing when it was safe, never sure whether to relax.

Aaron smiled ruefully, "with any luck, one of these days, Stalk will kill Daniels and then everyone's problems will be over."

"You really are wrapped in your own misery."

"What do you mean?"

"Stalk aint no hero, he's not going around defending the good, innocent folk of this prison. He just hates Daniels. Have you not noticed the grief he gives to some inmates around here? He's just as bad. I'm telling you, it's probably a good thing if they let each other live, that way they can keep each other occupied."

"Well, Daniels still seems to have time to get at Stalk and fuck with me."

"I've told you what you've got to do. You've got to get in his face like you did when you punched Simmons last week, show him you're not a pussy."

Aaron sighed, "better still, maybe they could just end up killing each other."

"Yeah, that would probably be the best option."

Aaron had never given much thought to the intense hate they showed towards each other. It didn't seem to be due to any rivalry, there was no competition to be 'top dog' in the prison. Daniels, for one, was a lone wolf, slowly circling the perimeter and taking down at random. Stalk had friends, respect, he could be a pain in the arse but, with Stalk, when he started on someone there was usually a reason. With Daniels, it was just to see how far they could stretch.

Aaron patted his face dry and plonked down into the chair by the bed, "so, why do they hate each other so much? Maybe it will give me a clue on how to convince them to kill each other." Goldie unfolded his hands from behind his head, he looked at Aaron intensely.

"I'm only joking."

"You better be. Seriously, Aaron, you're here for six months, don't convince the authorities that it should be longer."

"I won't."

Prisoners Thomas Daniels and Andrew Stalk had known each other on the outside. They'd met in their late teens, delved together into drug-pushing and petty theft. Stalk had been Daniels best man when he's married Louise and godfather to his first child. They'd begun a series of burglaries, mostly breaking into empty houses whilst the occupants were on holiday and then advanced to armed robbery in shops, each time getting away scot-free. Still young and in their early twenties, they made the cocky decision to rob a bank together; this proved to be their downfall.

"Daniels had been the one to cock it up," continued Goldie, "he got a bit wild and showy – you know what he's like." Aaron knew only too well. "He starts deliberately scaring the shit out of the customers, and is distracted enough for one of them to raise an alarm. Before they know it, the armed police are there and they are in a hostage situation. One thing leads to another and twenty hours later, Daniels shoots one of the hostages dead, Stalk gives himself up but Daniels keeps on shooting like the mad fucker he is. Luckily, no one else got hurt."

"So, Stalk blames Daniels then?"

"That's about the size of it. Daniels has only been in this prison for eight months, he and Stalk originally ended up in separate ones. Stalk got seventeen years and Daniels got Life. I tell you, in here wasn't exactly a bed of roses before but it really broke the peace when Daniels arrived."

* * *

Aaron kept his hands stuffed deep inside his pockets, he took a large, steadying breath and continued walking. The October morning had a chill in the air and at 8 a.m., it wasn't completely light as he'd thrown on his overalls and headed through the front door. Today was really the first proper day of re-joining society. He'd been almost excited, glad even that he could keep his job and that maybe not everything had changed since prison. His walk had been buoyant and he'd even smiled at the 'good luck' message he'd received from his mum. All that had frozen the minute he watched the recognisable blue form of Jackson Walsh's van drive past him, down the hill and park up in front of the house next to the garage. Sickness swelled in his stomach. He saw Jackson get out, obviously noticing Aaron on the way down and move around to the back of the van, waiting, the anticipation clearly on his face. Aaron kept walking, the dread rising with every step, the shakiness overwhelming. He'd not seen Jackson since the court hearing, not since those large, brown eyes that had been so sad, bore into him as he was walked away from the dock. In those first few days, they had haunted Aaron, had been the thing he saw every time he'd closed his eyes.

"Hi, Aaron," Jackson tapped on the side of his van rhythmically.

"Hi."

"I guess you knew I was working here."

Aaron sniffed, "Yeah." He felt anxious, his palms grew sweaty in their pockets and his heartbeat increased.

"So, how are you?"

"Good."

"Good," Jackson licked his lips. They looked at each other, Aaron desperately wanting to move on and Jackson looking like he wanted to say more. He didn't and instead nodded before turning around to open the back doors on his van. Aaron didn't hesitate before continuing.

Cain was watching the whole interaction, he had a coffee ready for Aaron. "Are you two going to be OK?

"Yeah."

"You're going to stay away from him, aren't you?"

Aaron risked a glance behind as Jackson carried a toolbox into the house, "Yeah."


	7. Chapter Six

_Aaron, I know you didn't expect to hear from me and I am surprised at myself for doing this. I would like to come and visit you, I have no idea of my reasoning and I have no intention of being hostile._

_I would really appreciate it if you would give me a small bit of your time._

_Jackson._

Aaron read the letter a third time. He let out a jagged breath and clutched his head as he bent over in his chair. What the hell was this all about? Why would Jackson want to contact him? He'd hit him, called him vile names and rejected his help. He folded up the letter and shoved it into his pocket, only to pull it out to read again. He felt his heartbeat increase as a horrible sense of desire filled him.

Aaron had worked so hard to forget about Jackson, to fight the images flashing through his mind. It hurt and it was a struggle. That kiss, in particular, that kiss, the beginning of his downfall. Jackson's hands on his cheek, the small smile on his face, right before he leaned in and planted that soft, chaste kiss on his lips. Aaron could still feel it, along with the giddy emotions of being like that, with another man, after he had denied himself for so long. Sometimes, when he was feeling alone, he'd think of it. Sometimes, during the long nights on his top bunk, that feeling would leak into his dreams. Sometimes, it made him want to move his hand lower as he showered, the hot jets of water coursing over his body, the memory of the intensity in that kiss on his mind. Sometimes, but then he'd remember where he was.

Angry with himself, Aaron quickly began tearing the letter up. He was stopped by a hand. Looking up, he saw it was Daniels'. He was wearing that all-encompassing grin of his as he snatched at the letter. Aaron scrambled for it but missed. "What you got here, Livesy?"

"Nothing."

Daniels grabbed a chair and twisted it until it was the wrong way round, he dropped down, long legs stretched out either side and lent against the back. His eyes swept down Aaron's form until they rested on the page. He didn't say a word as he read. "Nothing, looks like a letter." Panic overwhelmed Aaron, he froze, scared beyond belief at what Daniels would gleam from those words. Would he understand the weight and the history? Maybe he'd noticed the desire in Aaron only moments earlier, understand the effect that this simple three-line letter had on him. Would he realise he was a gay man? Would this be the catalyst that increased Daniels' attention?

"So, is that his first or last name?" Aaron blinked, "What?"

"Jackson, first or last?"

"First."

"Ahh," Daniels folded up the letter. It was harder now, having been ripped. He fumbled slightly, struggling to use the existing creases and handed it back, an apologetic expression gracing his feature. "Any chance he was named after Jackson Pollock?"

"What?" Aaron took the letter and quickly put it back in his pocket. Daniels shuffled his chair forward, closing the gap between them. At this level, they were the same height, for the first time Aaron was looking directly into Daniels' eyes.

"Jackson Pollock."

"Who?"

Daniels snorted, gently amused, "you kids today. Jackson Pollock, he was an artist," he tilted his head and smiled, "he used to drip paint all over his canvases. Apparently, it was all about expression through the marks he made as opposed to the conventional artists, who created a message from representation, be it exact or abstract. "

Aaron couldn't think, couldn't function, here was Daniels, striking up conversation with him, like two old friends exchanging ideas. "What?"

"Yeah, I know, fucking dumb, huh?" He sniffed hard and stared at Aaron. "So I saw what you did to Simmons' face last week, if you ask me, it looks better. I like the feisty you. Do you fancy finishing the job? "

Aaron couldn't keep up. He looked around the room, not sure what he hoped to find. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Livesy," Daniels grinned at him again, his smile slowly curling outwards, "we've got a situation on our hands. Simmons is bringing in crack cut with all kinds of nasty shit, it's grounded a few people permanently – if you know what I mean." A guard walked past and Daniels stopped, he turned his head and Aaron studied him in profile. "Now," he leaned closer, stopping inches from Aaron and lowered his voice, "I don't give a shit about bodies building up, but I do have an issue when guards start looking a lot closer at us. It prevents other enterprising activities..."

"You want me to help you?"

"Yeah, I figured him simulating oral sex with your mouth might be good motivation."

"You hate me."

Daniels laughed, he brought his elbow up onto the chair back and rested his head in his hand, "I don't hate anyone. Spending your life hating is a fucking waste of a life." Aaron didn't respond.

"No, not interested? Ah well, it was just a thought."

Later that day, Aaron watched Daniels and Stalk deep in conversation, their words were concentrated and measured, nothing like the previous confrontations he'd witnessed. He saw them leave together, looking around the room as they did and come back fifteen minutes later. A few guards came running in soon after. Simmons had been found in the laundry room, both his arms and legs broken. Daniels had obviously found the help he needed.

In that moment, Aaron started laughing - Daniels and Stalk, the great enemies, joining forces. He thought he understood the rules, thought he knew who was what and where to go when. He didn't.

The only thing he realised in that moment was there were no rules. He laughed so hard, he cried.

* * *

The tables were small and square, wooden tops on metal legs, and the chairs were blue and plastic, both reminiscent of the ones from a school. In the room, they were neatly lined, perfectly straight, twenty all together and in each sat an individual marked out by the bright orange bib that the rules required them to wear. Chastity Dingle was sitting across from her son, smiling that usual pained grin she had. It wasn't because she was out of her depth, that she found herself in an intimidating environment. No, Aaron was not the first person she had visited in prison. It was, in fact, because she was so scared for her vulnerable son. She was wary of his behaviour, and anxious at his appearance.

"You've lost weight since I last saw you." Aaron kept low in his chair, he wasn't quite looking at her. "Are you eating?"

She licked her lips and waited, "Aaron." His eyes shot back towards her but she couldn't keep his attention. "What are you looking at?" She moved to turn around only to feel Aaron's hand on her arm, it stopped her. "Sorry, don't mind me."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," Aaron's smile was tight. Chastity stared at him, noting his paler colour, and his neck that looked slender than she remembered. He'd only been in for a month and his appearance suggested that he wasn't looking after himself. "Adam said last week that you seemed really down."

"No." Aaron shook his head. His eyes minutely glanced behind her again. This time Chastity did turn around but it wasn't obvious who or what he was looking at. They were three rows from the wall and each row contained an inmate with relatives or friends. Her eyes fell on the man behind her on their right. He had short ginger hair, and a handsome, chiselled face. He was broad, with defined firm arms and was holding the hand of a blonde, whose face Chastity couldn't see. She turned back to Aaron and noted his wide eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

* * *

"Here Livesy, please feel free to join me." A chair was kicked out from beneath the table. Daniels' gesture was polite, that of an acquaintance bumped into at a restaurant. Aaron hesitated, not quite sure. He didn't want to get within seeing distance of the other man let alone at his table, but the conversation they'd had the other day seemed to be the beginning of the end of his torment and Aaron wanted to avoid anything that would ignite things. He sat down, carefully, placing his food tray in front, being watched with that constant grin. The menu this lunch time was beans on toast, Aaron picked up his cutlery.

"So, who was that woman who came to see you today?"

Aaron paused, he stared at Daniels, "That was my mum."

Daniels picked up an apple and bit down obnoxiously, after a few bites, he spat out a pip. "She was hot, she had great tits. She looked straight at me, couldn't help herself, I guess. Can I fuck her?"

"Stay away from her."

"Why? You're not fucking her are you? Cause that's just sick."

Aaron didn't have even a single memory of those split seconds before he launched himself across the table. He didn't know what he was thinking, didn't know if he'd attempted to justify what he was about to do, or wonder at the consequences at his actions. His awareness came as their food trays splayed over the table and the crowd in the canteen went wild. Two sets of hands then pulled him away, and Daniels' smile never left his face.

* * *

When Aaron punched Simmons, he'd avoided isolation because it was his first offence, and up until then, he'd been a model inmate. He was not so lucky this time. Isolation was a nine-foot square room with exposed brick and a tiny, high window. There was a toilet and a bed and a solid door, which prevented sound going in or out. Aaron didn't think it was that different from his cell. The point of isolation was to think about your recent transgressions, to realise the mistakes you've made without the distraction of everyday life. It was also designed to make you realise how much it sucked to be alone and that maybe you should embrace your fellow inmates instead of attacking them. Those left down there for weeks often came back slightly reformed, quieter and more thoughtful – not that it lasted. Those whose sentence, like Aaron's, was twenty-four hours, came back no different. Except Aaron maybe, because Aaron spent those long hours conjuring images of Daniels' retaliation, making himself sick with worry over his mother's next visit, and feeling like he couldn't continue.

By the last hour, Aaron was like a caged animal, bouncing himself off the walls, walking round and round, and disorientating himself. He came up with ludicrous after absurd ideas and didn't know his front from his back. The guards released him, warily aware of his behaviour but Aaron didn't care. He stormed back to his unit, barely containing himself as the guards let him through barred doors, one after the other, down one corridor and the next. Goldie was reading a book as he approached, "Where's Daniels?" Aaron's nostrils flared.

"Why, what you gonna do?"

"Where the fuck is he?"

"I don't know." Something in Aaron had snapped, he had enough, didn't want to play anymore, couldn't spend the next five months being a ball of string to Daniels' cat. He stormed away from Goldie, the other man calling out his name. He checked Daniels' cell, the top level observation point, and the TV room. Daniels wasn't to be found. This was going to be it, the end, today. He was going to kill Daniels or be killed, Aaron didn't care which. He carried on walking, checking fervently, looking confrontationally into the eyes of every one he met. Aaron paused when he saw the top of Daniels' head through the laundry room window. He was behind the washing machines, next to a tumble dryer and almost completely hidden by a locker. Aaron gritted his teeth, felt himself out of control with rage and without hesitating, threw open the door.

Aaron stopped short. He blinked, his mouth hanging open. Inside the room, hand leaning against the wall, casual as he'd ever see him, was Daniels. His head was tilted back, his eyes tightly closed, his other hand resting on a head. The head belonged to a man kneeling down in front of him, a man whose mouth was wrapped around Daniels' penis.

Before Aaron knew what was happening, Daniels had pushed the man away and advanced on him, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him into the wall. He hissed sharply against Aaron's ear, "You didn't see anything." Fingers pressed into his jugular. Daniels was standing, his full weight in use, his trousers and underwear around his ankles, his erection still full. "You didn't see anything." Aaron clawed at the hands holding him firm. He spluttered and choked, his feet left the ground and his vision darkened. He became light-headed, a feeling of dissociation washing over him as Daniels' face wavered in front. "You didn't see anything." Aaron nodded his agreement. He was dropped to the floor and gasped, clutching at his throat.

"Now fuck off, and don't ever ruin my blow job again."


	8. Chapter Seven

**Thank you as always to Sylvain, (I promise one day I will correctly use the terms , was sat/was sitting) :)**

* * *

Luckily, Paddy hadn't been too inquisitive when Aaron requested to borrow his car. He'd hesitated, tried to ask all casual what it was needed for, and then looked blankly when the response was 'to see a friend'. Aaron had been confident at first. He'd climbed into the car with that address, which was neatly written on the piece of folded-up paper, and now resting on the passenger seat. Every now and again, he'd glance down, reassuring himself that it was still there. That confidence hadn't lasted long and by the time he'd entered the town, a nervous ball of energy formed in his stomach. He'd felt it in his shakiness whilst driving and had to pull over to calm down a few times.

It had been almost a week since Aaron's release and he was now firmly back into the folds of the village. He'd quickly resumed all the things he did before his sentence, drinking with Cain in the pub, playing Xbox with Paddy as Smithy, quad-bike racing with Adam, and avoiding his mother's fuss. Through all this was an undercurrent of unease. He'd tried to hide it, tried to fold it up and leave it in his jeans pocket, tried to slip it between the pages of a book that sat on his dusty shelf. In the end, Aaron couldn't. He had something he needed to do and no amount of daily distraction would help him forget. So he'd grabbed that piece of paper, requested the use of the car and now found himself outside 7 Boundary Close feeling overwhelmingly nauseous.

The area was nice, an estate of fairly new buildings in various mock barn house styles with smart front gardens. He imagined the kind of people who live there would be sales managers with their stay-at-home wives and two children. He saw such families dart into their houses as they avoided the rain, one or two of them glancing at the unfamiliar 4 x4 he was sitting in. The rain distorted his view, and around the rapid movements of the windscreen wipers, Aaron concentrated on the large painted red door of a house, number 7. It didn't open, and none of those families entered it. For an hour, he sat there, stealing himself, gaining the nerve only to quickly lose it by the time he'd shifted to open the door. During the second hour, he finally convinced himself to climb out. He walked up the path, slowly, the heavy rain soaking instantly into his jacket, his hand shielding to stop the drops running down his face. He took one step, then another, paused to consider turning back, and then, more resolutely, he continued until he was in front of that red door.

There was no answer and Aaron barely allowed himself to knock a second time. He quickly jumped back into the car and sped away. Aaron cursed himself once out of his sodden clothes, once sitting in his room, piece of paper in hand, address staring back at him. He wished he'd had the bottle to try harder, wanted to go back, was going back right that minute. He didn't.

* * *

Jackson felt it akin to how animals react when they detect danger. There's the straightening up, the pricking of the ears and scanning of the scene, and that constant edge of threat that leaves you unable to focus on anything but the task of keeping alert. This is how it was since Aaron's release. He'd become instantly aware of Aaron, sensing him on the peripheral, knowing when he was walking up the garage path, and conscious as he drank his tea on the forecourt. He also knew of the glances that Aaron snuck him, and was all too aware of the ones he returned. Occasionally, this would happen at the same time and their eyes would meet, both quickly looking away.

Jackson knew that they needed to speak. It had been over a week since Aaron's return to the village and they had not said anything beyond that initial 'hello'. There was so much that needed to be discussed, air that needed clearing, apologies that Jackson had been intent to make.

They just couldn't continue pretending the other person didn't exist.

* * *

Aaron slide against the door frame, leaning heavily, before stepping into his cell. He felt numb, the pain from his bruised throat not registering next to the images playing in his mind. Goldie was already inside. He rose from his chair upon seeing him, a nervous expression on his face and concern etched into the urgency of his movements. "You alright?" He was, at least he thought he was. "What happened? I followed you but you got away after the TV room." Aaron touched his hand to his head, "Nothing."

"Did you find Daniels?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

He felt uncertain, his movements slowed, like he was going through molasses. Aaron tried to climb up onto his bed only he lacked co-ordination. Instead, he stayed on the ground.

"Aaron, what the hell happened?"

"Nothing." Aaron felt Goldie take his arm and guide him into the chair. He knelt down in front of him and Aaron's vision was filled with Goldie's perfectly round, shiny face. "Did Daniels do that to you?" A finger pointed and Aaron tried to look at where it was directed. "Aaron?" He didn't respond.

When Aaron first arrived, he'd thought Goldie was a bastard. He was all-knowing and so sure of himself, and he hated that gleaming head and the way he kept polishing his shoes. Goldie was inside for drug trafficking, he'd done it most of his adult life and would brag about the small fortune waiting for him on the outside. Apparently, only an idiot goes inside for assaulting someone, that's what Goldie had said. He'd said, 'at least my sentence had been worth it.'

For about two weeks, Aaron had hated him and then he had come to rely on him before eventually liking him. Goldie was his prison parental figure and in a few weeks he was going to be released. Aaron didn't know what he was going to do.

A hand cupped the back of his head, "I think you're in shock mate."

"I'm gonna miss you, Goldie," Aaron mumbled

* * *

Jackson was waiting, obscured by his van, as Aaron walked down the garage drive. He'd thought it was safe, thought Jackson had already left for lunch. He was wrong. He was pounced on unexpectedly, a friendly, unsure smile on Jackson's face. Aaron stuffed his hands in his pockets and contemplated ignoring him. "Aaron?" Aaron slowed, barely making eye contact. "Can we talk."

"I'm sorry, I'm busy."

"Five minutes?"

"I can't, I'm sorry."

"Aaron."

He kept moving, aware of Jackson's eyes on his back, annoyed at himself for being so rude. He just couldn't stick around to hear it, didn't want to have to explain why he'd ignored Jackson's letter. He knew he should go back to the start, apologise for hitting Jackson, confess how stupid he'd been to lie in court. But then they might touch on their relationship, analyse what went wrong and then agree to just be friends. And more than anything, Aaron couldn't imagine just being his friend.

* * *

The numbness had eventually faded, replaced with agitation, and Aaron found that he couldn't lie in his bed after lights out, instead opting for sitting in the corner of his cell. Every now and again, he'd hit his head and shake it. He'd be OK for a short time and then the images would come back. That hand rested on the back of a head. Those tightly closed eyes and the steady, sure thrust of hips into the open mouth, silent gasps escaping. Aaron hit himself again. That leaning against the wall, trousers around ankles, brows furrowed. Aaron hit himself again.

"Aaron, what the hell are you doing?" Aaron jumped at Goldie's gruff question. "Nothing." He got to his feet and readied to climb back into bed. Goldie stopped him and swung into a sitting position, he rubbed at his eyes. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah."

"You don't seem it."

"Well, I am." He wasn't, that was a complete lie.

"Look, Aaron, I feel bad about this." Aaron frowned, confused. Through the gloomy half-light, he watched Goldie reach for a book on the floor. The inside pages were cut away and five cigarettes sat neatly inside. He pulled one out, lit it and moved as close as he could get to their window. "I told you to get in Daniels' face and it didn't exactly work out. I never thought he'd try to half kill you."

"It's fine."

"It's obviously not."

"No, really, it is." And that was the truth. Yeah, so what if he'd hung by the neck in someone's hand, legs dangling, vision darkening. So what if he'd honestly thought he was about to die. Really none of that mattered. At this moment, it didn't matter that his neck was a mass of bruises, and that tilting his head caused a sharp pain. Honestly, it all barely registered.

What Aaron couldn't escape was that large, dominant hand holding the head, that hard firm body, evenly moving back and forth, and that face, full of concentration. He resisted hitting himself again.

Goldie took a couple of drags on his cigarette and then passed it over. "OK, so what's the problem?"

"It's nothing."

"Come on, tell me."

They finished the cigarette, Goldie staring intently as Aaron wouldn't meet his gaze. "If what Daniels did to you is really no big deal, then what is?"

Aaron shifted uncomfortably and folded his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Come on…" He didn't answer. "Come on!"

"Alright!" Aaron's response was louder that he'd meant, it echoed around their cell. He took a shaky breath. "I saw something…"

"…yeah?"

He couldn't say it out loud, was scared witless that he'd be associated through merely witnessing the act. Aaron lowered his voice, "I walked in on Daniels… on Daniels with that guy, you know, Haines."

"Yeah."

"He was… he was," Aaron scrunched up his eyes, "he was…"

"For fuck sake, just say it!"

"He was giving Daniels a blow job."

A massive grin split Goldie's face, "Jesus, Aaron, is that it?" He started laughing.

"What do you mean 'is that it'?"

"So he was getting his dick sucked, so what?"

"but…" he wasn't sure what he wanted to follow that with.

Goldie's laugh grew harsh and Aaron felt the humiliation heating his cheeks, anger started replacing his earlier fears. "Look, Aaron, you're not so naive to think that kind of thing don't go in here. Daniels has a long sentence in front of him, he's not got busy with his wife in a while. A person's hand can only offer so much before it becomes a little predictable."

Aaron looked at Goldie, he gritted his teeth, "so this is no big deal then?"

"Not to me, it isn't. I don't care who's putting what where as long as they don't come near me."

Moving around Goldie, Aaron quickly climbed up onto his bed, intent on ignoring the chuckles still escaping the other man. "Oh, I get it." He looked at Goldie, "You're here for beating up a queer, ain't you? I forgot about that." Unease froze Aaron. "You hate them, I forgot. If it makes it any better, I don't think he fancies those fellas that are doing the 'job'." Goldie mimed the action with his hand, smiling again. "Anyway, don't worry; at least you already hate the man, so no need for an attitude readjustment."


	9. Chapter Eight

For days, Aaron felt a restless, angry energy. Goldie noticed it and laughed at his stupidity, making it all a lot worse. He walked around not quite knowing what to do with himself. He found he was unable to concentrate and barely able to carry out a conversation with Paddy when he came to visit. He knew who was to blame, it was Daniels. And also that other guy, Haines, who up until now had barely registered. Aaron had asked a few questions and found out that Haines was a married man, with two children in for burglary. He was young, in his early twenties with a build and spiky attitude, similar to Aaron's. Two days ago, Haines had served him a dollop of rice in the canteen, their eyes had met, and an apologetic expression fleeted his features. Aaron had looked away as quickly as possible. Then yesterday, Haines had approached him in the library.

"Hey." Aaron quickly scanned the gap above the row of books to make sure no one was in the immediate area. "Hi."

"Look, are you alright after the other day?" He couldn't look at Haines, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Well, I thought you were a dead man."

"Well, I wasn't." Aaron shifted to move but Haines blocked his way. "Hey, I'm just trying to make sure you're OK here, why are you being shitty with me?"

"I'm not."

"Yeah, right." Haines lightly put his hand to Aaron's shoulder, Aaron shot back as if he'd been stabbed. "Oh, I get it, this is cause of what we were doing, you think queerness is catching." Haines narrowed his eyes, "Well, let me tell you, Livesy, I like pussy, always have, but when there's not a whole load around, you start getting resourceful." He closed the gap between them and reached up to cup Aaron's face. They stood head to head, lips almost touching. Aaron jerked away. "You're only in for six months, that's probably not long enough. If you do get the urge to try some man-on-man, you know which cell I'm in."

And now Aaron noticed, and realised it wasn't all that uncommon. From his plastic chair in the rec room, he'd watch as men sloped of together, returning later, clothes readjusted. It was all going on around him, along with the drugs and fights and part of the tapestry of prison life. It wasn't everyone, hardly anyone in fact, but suddenly it seemed all the more prominent. All the looks, gestures, sniggering and high-fives, and all those past exchanges suddenly took on a clarity. Thinking about it now, Aaron was even angrier, fuming even. The place was full of it, men coupling, like it was no big deal. All those years he'd spent panicking, trying desperately to hide who he was, feeling sick at the attractions coursing through him. But in here, men were getting it on all over the place, married men, men who didn't seem to show an ounce of concern for their reputation. This made a mockery of Aaron, laughed at his suicide attempt and stuck two fingers up at the very reason he was inside.

It didn't matter though, he wasn't going to be like that. He was going to ignore those images in his mind of Daniels' firm body and Haines' full lips that had danced so close, so alluringly to his own. He wasn't going to let himself think about kissing, or kneeling down in front, or touching another man. No, he wasn't.

* * *

Jackson never went to college, didn't get his qualifications. He didn't see the point, he knew what he wanted to do without question. He loved building, loved keeping fit and loved the outdoors. So, at sixteen years of age, he went to his parents and told them he had no intention of continuing his education. Luckily, they'd been supportive.

Sometimes, Jackson worked for a firm, sometimes he took on a job himself. It was constantly different, his work transient in nature. It meant a lot of uncertainty, always having to look at the future, always planning three jobs ahead, but luckily, he'd never been out of work for longer than a few weeks.

Aaron Livesy put a stop to his luck. Their relationship, for what it was, became distractive. He stopped thinking about money and started focusing on the younger man. For two months, he was constantly calling, constantly 'dropping in', and constantly feeling like a stalker. Then the awful happened, just as things were in place, just as Jackson felt they were getting somewhere, Aaron had hit him. The bruises, the injured pride, the venom, it had all been there consuming him, replacing perspective and preventing him from moving on. A month later, Jackson found himself in deep shit, utility bills to pay and credit cards to sort, and absolutely no job on the cards.

That was until Declan Macy called.

Jackson had laughed at the irony. Apparently, Declan, a wealthy business man, just moved to Emmerdale, had seen his van around the village and taken down the number clearly stencilled on the side. How funny, when he'd only been around because of Aaron. He didn't want to take the job and was horrified to return after his very public performance witnessed by the locals. He'd have to see that Adam, and Chastity and all Aaron's family, who had shot him daggers during the court case. He'd also have to see Paddy, who not long ago he'd approached to discuss seeing Aaron. Jackson was humiliated when he didn't receive a reply to his request for a visitors form, and hadn't seen Paddy since.

But then Jackson looked at the bill for his mobile phone, it was sixty pounds. His rent was five hundred, and his bank balance contained only half of what he needed. Jackson took the job.

* * *

Goldie's release was a sad day for Aaron. They'd hugged, uncomfortably, and Aaron had thanked him for everything. Goldie had even suggested he'd come and visit but Aaron knew it was a hollow suggestion. Goldie had a series of secret bank accounts that he intended to empty before taking his family and moving to Greece. It sounded like he would have a nice life.

"Well, the good news is that after seeing what Daniels did the other week, he seems to have decided to leave you alone." Goldie was correct. Other than a few looks, Daniels hadn't given him any of his time. In the few days after, Aaron had been convinced he'd be murdered in his bed. That never happened, and slowly, that constant fear of threat melted away into a low level anxiety. Aaron still wasn't sure he was safe, but at least he felt better than he had since arriving.

For three days, Aaron had the cell to himself. He loved it, felt for a time that he wasn't inside and really didn't miss the rattle of Goldie's snore. He was left Goldie's stash of cigarettes and a few books and he was like the king of the world as he alternated between the top and bottom bunk. He constantly chuckled to himself and felt that giddy high, similar to those days when Daniels had been locked away in solitary. It didn't last long enough, and before he knew it, Aaron came sharply back down to earth. It was the fourth day, when his prison guard came to tell him he was moving, that his pleasant break from reality was rudely interrupted.

"Get your things together, Livesy." Aaron was gently tilted onto the back legs of his chair, balancing precariously as he concentrated on the pages of his book. "Why?" Aaron frowned.

"Two new inmates are moving in here, you're bunking with someone else."

"Who?"

"Daniels."

The legs of the chair slide from under him and Aaron came crashing to the floor.

* * *

"I'm just saying, that's all." She had a point, Paddy couldn't disagree. He watched Chastity unfurl her legs on the sofa and place her cup on his coffee table. "Since he's been out, it's like it's no big deal," she leant forward slightly, closing the gap between them, "people have spoken to him about being gay, and nothing."

Paddy narrowed his eyebrows, "I wouldn't say it's been nothing."

"Yeah OK, he's been awkward. But considering he tried to kill himself before, he's had a remarkable change of attitude." Chastity was right. They'd all been terrified for Aaron when they'd explained the village knew of his sexuality. In prison, he and Chas had sat across, as calmly as possible, and tried to cast a positive spell on the situation. It hadn't worked and Aaron had fallen apart. In the end, he'd been taken away and Chastity and Paddy had spoken to his counsellor, making her aware of the truth. Their next visit had been uncomfortable but calmer.

"Maybe he's just had time to think it over?"

Chas chewed on her lip thoughtfully, "Yeah, maybe,"

"Look he seems fine, let's not make something out of nothing."

"Oh, OK," she curled her lip, "let's just forget about him being beaten within an inch of his life as well."

Paddy rested his head in his hand, "That's not what I'm saying. We will find out what happened, it will just take time for him to confide in us. As for him seemingly OK with being gay, so what? This is what we wanted, isn't it?"

"Yes," Chastity folded her arms.

"Then, let him be."


	10. Chapter Nine

The bunk bed was a solid metal structure with two flimsy mattresses, long since losing their firmness. The springs dug uncomfortably into your back, and the bed, though structurally sound, rocked whenever a person turned over. The top bunk, being further from the ground and having less support, created the most movement. This is what Aaron found out when he moved to Daniels' cell. Daniels slept on the top. Fact. Aaron didn't argue with him. Daniels turned over a lot. Fact. And Aaron didn't argue with him, not even when he realised Daniels was turning over as often as possible just to hinder Aaron's sleep. Then, of course, there was how often Daniels needed the toilet, which was a lot. He'd climb down noisily, mumbling about his weak bladder, but the tone of voice was carried by a smile and most of the time he just didn't need to go. Aaron tried to remain patient, he figured Daniels would get bored soon.

Luckily, this was as far as the torment went and there wasn't even a hint of threat as he carried his stuff into the cell. He'd just been explained the rules, which consisted of 'don't touch my things and then there'll be no reason to kill you', and that had been it. In fact, apart from the bed thing, Daniels was the perfect roommate. He didn't snore, kept his things tidy and stayed out of his room except when sleeping. Aaron watched Daniels, cataloguing him, warily waiting for the abuse to begin. He noticed the other man did nothing accidentally. His movements always carefully measured. Every gesture and inclination considered and thought out. He was like a leopard surveying from the tree branches. He'd stalk back and forth; he'd lounge not so casually. No words spoken to him seemed to create any effect, and that smile never left his face.

Daniels had not even mentioned the other week, when he'd interrupted him and Haines. Aaron couldn't fathom it. Was he not worried Aaron would spill the beans? Did he think that the single threat was enough to earn silence? Maybe no one would care, but then why threaten him at all? Aaron didn't know, and so he watched. He watched across the rec, Daniels laughing as he lost his game of pool. He watched him separate his peas away from carrots his because he didn't like carrots. He watched every time Daniels climbed down from the bed in the middle of the night. And he watched every morning, as Daniels bent over, jeans in hand, pulling them up over firm legs. Slowly, Aaron stopped watching him from fear of threat and instead, he just watched.

One morning, a couple of weeks into them cohabiting, Daniels returned from the shower. He pulled his towel from his waist and casually rubbed at his hair, leaving his body exposed. Aaron was in bed, duvet up over his head, a small tiny hole at the side, just enough for Aaron to peep through. He watched Daniels lean against the wall and close his eyes for a second, so similar to what he'd witnessed in the laundry room. He watched him pat his neck, drying those last droplets clinging to his skin. He watched him move the towel lower, taking a swipe over his genitals.

Aaron watched intently and when he realised he was holding his breath, took that corner edge of his duvet and closed the gap.

* * *

At 1 p.m., Jackson wiped the plaster splodges on his hands down his trouser legs and stepped back to survey the work. He was pleased with what he saw. When he'd arrived at the job, almost three months ago, the house had been a shell, the ceiling had fallen down and some of the wooden beams were breaking away. It didn't look like that now, the bathroom and kitchen were installed in their basic form, all the plastering was finished and it was habitable. The job at Declan's was big, bigger than he should have handled on his own. But Jackson liked a challenge. He liked being project manager and builder. He liked sourcing the materials. Everything about the job was fantastic. Good boss, great pay, interesting work. He had only one problem, lousy neighbours. No, not neighbours, _neighbour_, just one. Aaron Livesy.

Aaron Livesy, who wouldn't even acknowledge him in the street. Who kept his head down as he walked and glanced around before he left the garage. At first, Jackson had been hurt and yet bizarrely understanding. After all, he didn't know what to say to Aaron either. But then, he'd tried to talk and been shot down, not once but twice. They were now in this strange place where the tension was building between them and Aaron became inventive in his ways to avoid him.

Slowly, that understanding turned to anger and Jackson started behaving in much the same way. He'd keep his head down when going out for his tool box, worked outside as long as Aaron was on a call out and check to see if he went to the pub or café for lunch before going to the other. Like now for instance, Aaron was out and so Jackson made the decision to go to the café. He fancied a bacon sandwich with his coffee and newspaper and quickly locked up the house.

The café door opened and Jackson stepped aside, allowing an elderly gentleman, who was local to the village, exit first. Jackson smiled genuinely as the other man tipped his hat. As he walked in, he sighed. Aaron was sitting at the table with his colleague Ryan. Damn, he thought he was on a call out, or at home or in a ditch for all he cared. Aaron wasn't even looking at the door, but Jackson saw him, the way his frame tensed, the way his eyes remained fixed on the point he was looking at. Brenda was behind the counter and Jackson tried to concentrate on placing his order. He took the furthest table from them and uncurled his newspaper. He could see Aaron, see him glancing over, heard him tell Ryan to hurry up. Suddenly, it all seemed too much for Aaron and he watched him chew on his bottom lip, then lean in to say something before climbing to his feet. Ryan's hands splayed out in question as he turned, following Aaron's retreating form. A confused expression left Ryan's face when his eyes fell on Jackson.

This was it, Jackson was at the end of his rope, and he'd had enough. All those months, he'd been so patient with Aaron. He'd tried his hardest, tried to help him, and this, even after the attack. Jackson was livid, he felt his anger shake him at his core and wanted to tear up the newspaper laid out on the table. Before he knew it, he'd jumped up from his seat and ran out of the café, quickly catching up to Aaron as he walked away, head down, hands deep in his pockets. Jackson grabbed his arm and swung him around.

"You're a fucking piece of shit, you know that!" Aaron stared at him, eyes wide. "You fucked me over, remember? You hit me!" He got right into Aaron's face, "What gives you the right to walk around like the injured party, huh?" There was no answer, instead, the other man swallowed hard. Jackson pointed aggressively, "You're a fucking bastard," his voice broke as he spoke, "A fucking bastard!" And then he turned and walked away, leaving Aaron where he stood.


	11. Chapter Ten

Stalk cornered Aaron on his return from the canteen. He put his hand out, blocking Aaron's route, his manner not particularly threatening and, as a result, Aaron felt more annoyed than fearful.

"You enjoying Daniels' company?" He closed the gap between them, his wide head and tiny eyes darting around to make sure they were alone. Aaron folded his arms up and leant against the wall, "It's alright."

"Really. After what he's done to you?" Aaron shrugged, not trusting where this was going. He didn't like Daniels but that didn't mean he wanted to become best mates with his enemy, he'd seen just what Stalk was capable of. Not long ago, he and Daniels had teamed up to stop someone's drug enterprise. It was Simmons', the same guy who'd acted out oral sex with Aaron's mouth and whilst Aaron thought the guy was scum, he didn't deserve having both his arms and legs broken. No, as far as he was concerned, Stalk was no better.

"I would have thought you'd like to get even on everything Daniels had done." Aaron remained silent. "You know, stealing your food, sending you to the back of the lunch queue, stealing your clothes, strangling you in the laundry room." Aaron shot him a look. "Oh yeah," Stalk continued, "I know all about what you witnessed, you can't keep a secret around here." He lowered his voice, "You've been humiliated time after time by that man…"

Stalk wasn't wrong and it made Aaron shake from anger just thinking about it. He wanted to hit out at the man until he was black and blue and his face was bloodied. That wasn't going to happen, the other man towered over him in stature, he was clearly broader and stronger, Aaron wouldn't have a chance. Stalk shifted, turning until his was leaning against the wall, they looked to be two people having an idle conversation. "If you did ever fancy repaying your friend with all the kindness he's shown you, let me know."

Aaron bit, not wanting to, but too curious not to ask. He looked around first to make sure Daniels wasn't near. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure yet, I'm waiting for inspiration to hit." He smiled, his large lips parting to show very white teeth. "I'm up for parole in a few months, I just want to make sure I leave him the right parting gift."

Aaron remained silent. "Just think about it."

* * *

Aaron was mindful of Stalk's words, revenge always being something that he excelled in. He wasn't above it, paying out in kind to those that he felt had wronged him. A beating here, a little blackmail there. Aaron was capable of it and even enjoyed it, along with causing harm and humiliation. He wasn't so innocent and naïve, despite how he came across in prison. He even liked the idea of sending out a message to anyone who dared to mess with him.

Goldie's words reverberated, he'd said 'you're here for six months, don't convince the authorities that it should be longer.' And in truth, he wasn't the person that he had been before. How could he be, after the kindness that Paddy, his Mum and Adam had shown him? How could he be, after a man like Jackson had shown he'd cared?

Jackson, who had made him feel more amazing than any other person he'd met, who lifted his self-loathing. Sometimes, Aaron thought about him, wondered what he was doing, and wondered if he'd met anyone else yet. He wouldn't let his mind linger too long, it made him uneasy, an overwhelming need to cry eloping him. No, Jackson was a memory, an experience, one that he had no intention of reviving. Those thoughts and feelings needed to be buried. The excitable arousal he'd had around Jackson needed to be suppressed. In prison too, where sometimes, even now, Aaron found himself staring at the men around him as they showered, for a moment forgetting where he was. And also, as an oblivious Daniels changed his clothes in the cell, or bent over, tying his boot laces, or shaved his face, bare-chested by the mirror. Or like now, for instance, as a fuming Daniels aggressively threw on a shirt, not bothering to button it up, exposing his wiry chest hair. Aaron fixated on the pages from the book in his hand.

In prison, there were no secrets, everyone knew everyone's business and so Aaron knew the exact reason for Daniels current bad temper. He knew that Daniels was having problems with Louise––his wife, and kids, who wouldn't come and see him. Apparently, this was nothing new, the woman constantly finding excuses. Daniels had two children, a girl and a boy, neither far from their teens and neither knowing their father particularly well. It seemed to Aaron that this was the only thing capable of effecting Daniels. He wrote to Louise constantly and was always trying to get extra phone time with her. Aaron could remember seeing her during visitation. She was an attractive woman, whose bleached hair extensions were as obviously fake as her nails. The two of them argued most of the time, her thick Mancunian accent, matching Daniels, loudly sounding over the other conversations.

Today, Daniels was angry because Louise wouldn't come and visit him after he'd cut himself with a knife, requiring stitches. The cut had been deliberate; he'd spliced into the palm of his hand but it hadn't generated the desired attention and caused Daniels to get angrier. This told Aaron two things: one, he clearly loved his wife and kids intensely. Two, Daniels was a psycho.

Not that any of this was new, and as Daniels stormed around the cell, tearing through his belongings, looking rampantly, Aaron did his best not to incur his wrath.

"Livesy." Aaron peered over the top of his book. He was sitting in the furthest corner possible from Daniels, which also meant he was opposite the toilet, the lesser of the two evils.

"I need to use your phone card."

"You're asking me?" This was a first because Daniels never asked for anything.

"Yeah." Daniels pulled the two edges of his shirt together, buttoning them up. He failed to get the right button to the corresponding hole and growled as he pulled it apart again. "Look, can I have it or not?"

"But I need it."

"I'll scam you another one off the guards. I haven't got time to dick around, I need to make a call now."

Aaron got to his feet, warily circling Daniels as the six-foot man's gaze followed him. "Get it then." He pulled out his card and turned just as the other man gave up on his shirt and pulled it off, instead tugging down a t-shirt. Aaron watched as the fabric slid down over Daniels nipples, he realised he was swallowing hard when he caught Daniels' raised eyebrow. He handed over the card.

Daniels looked at him curiously and then hurried out of the room.

* * *

The Coke can, outstretched towards Jackson, confused him, just as much as the fact it was Aaron holding it out. From the driving seat in his van, Jackson fumed quietly, angry with himself for losing control, angry that it was always Aaron that made him lose control. He stared at the can, Aaron's wide eyes, watching him. Jackson snorted humourlessly, "What's this?"

The passenger door had been opened, Aaron was leaning in slightly. "It's Coke." There was no humour to his reply.

"I know what it is. Why are you giving it to me?"

"Cause," Aaron shrugged, "We're not in the pub or café, so I can't buy you a pint or coffee. "So…," he looked suddenly embarrassed, as if he hadn't completely thought it through. "That's what you're meant to do, when apologising, isn't it?"

Jackson was immediately taken back to that time Aaron had mistakenly thought he'd been invited back for a one night stand. He'd been just as unsure that night as he was now, his façade of bravado just as thinly worn. He'd found it unbelievable sexy.

Aaron's arm lowered at Jackson's stare. He looked at the car seat then at Jackson and then to the can. Jackson didn't say a word. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been keeping out of your way."

"You've been ignoring me."

"Yeah."

"All I wanted to do was clear the air. I wouldn't have bothered except I'm going to be here a few more months. I just didn't want it to be uncomfortable between us."

"I'm sorry." This shouldn't be it, a simple apology shouldn't be enough, but Jackson couldn't hold on to his anger, it had started slipping away the moment he realised Aaron was standing there. Jackson looked at the can and took it from Aaron's hand. The other man looked up sharply. "Are you going to get in then?"

"Sure."

They drove out of the village, both aware that too many eyes might find interest in them conversing. Neither spoke on the short journey, Jackson concentrating on the road, whilst Aaron found so much to be interested in through the passenger window. When Jackson parked in a layby on a country road, he heard Aaron swallowing and knew that his earlier gesture had knocked it out of him. It took a moment for Jackson to collect his thoughts.

"How was it, inside?" He saw Aaron sink a little in the seat, "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that."

"No, it's fine. It was awful. I'm never going back."

"I'm sorry." Aaron raised an eyebrow, "What have you got to be sorry about?"

"I'm partially responsible."

"No. It was my decision to keep quiet. I was the idiot." Jackson couldn't argue with that one. He'd never known such desperate stupidity. He'd sat in shock after the judge's sentencing, aware that this had all spiralled out of control, but powerless to do anything about it. "I wrote to you, I wanted to visit, did you get my letter?" Aaron lowered his eyes. "Yeah, I figured you were too angry with me."

"No, that wasn't it."

"What was it then?"

"It was…" Aaron rubbed at his head, "I was… I was in prison because I wanted to hide I was gay. Bringing you in, allowing you to visit… I was trying to ignore that part of me, not bring it closer."

"I didn't want anything from you, Aaron. I just wanted to apologise."

"You had nothing to apologise for." Jackson cocked his head, "Well, it felt like it at the time."

Jackson studied Aaron, really looking at him for the first time since his release. He appeared tired and was slimmer than before. Aaron had always seemed to carry the world on his shoulder and his time away had done nothing to ease this. Patches of yellow, bruises almost healed, marred his features. Jackson wanted to reach out and cup Aaron's face. "I heard, about you getting attacked in prison." Aaron nodded uncomfortably.

"Who hurt you?"

There was a long silence. He watched the younger man turn to the window, his face creasing before looking down, he took a couple of deep breaths. "My cellmate, a man named Daniels." Aaron brought his fingers to his lips. Jackson recalled kissing those lips, that single kiss that had sent him rocketing off the planet. He shifted down in his seat, level with Aaron's slumped form. "Why did he hurt you?"

When there was no reply, Jackson asked another question, "Did you tell someone what happened?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because," he trailed off, "because it doesn't matter now."

"Why?"

"Because… he's dead." There was the slight tremble to Aaron's fingertips. "How did he die?"

"It doesn't matter."

"You can tell me." But Aaron didn't offer anymore. "I haven't talked to anyone about this, don't say anything to anyone, please?"

"Who would I tell?" Aaron's wide eyes looked at him. "OK, I won't." Jackson suddenly had the urge to hold Aaron close, protectively, so that nothing bad ever happened to him again. Aaron's gaze was lingering on his face, his eyes darting to Jackson's lips. Jackson found himself caught like a rabbit in the beam of the full moon, he willed Aaron to close the gap between them. Jackson leant back, clearing his throat; he berated himself for thinking those thoughts.

"Anyway," Aaron shifted, "How are _you_?"

"I'm fine."

"Good."

"Yeah. I'm glad we've had this conversation."

"Me too."

"We best get back."

"Yeah."

Once outside Dale Head, Jackson switched off the engine and turned to Aaron. "Maybe one day, once all this has settled, we could be friends." He meant every word of that, friends and nothing more.

Aaron looked down, "Sure… I'd like that."

"If you see me, say hello. OK?"

"OK."


	12. Chapter Eleven

Apparently, men think about sex every seven seconds, that's the saying. It was bullshit, Aaron knew this, because between hating his Mum, bullying people, getting to know Paddy and coping with prison, he didn't have all those seconds to spare. That's not to say he didn't think about sex. He thought about it a lot, and worried about it even more. Sex, rolling around with another person – another man, skin to skin, erections touching. All these dirty little thoughts kept digging their way to the surface of his mind. He couldn't stop them, found that he couldn't occupy himself enough to zone them out. They whirled around his brain, different scenarios, weaving, crystallising and then morphing. Haines down on his knees in front of Daniels and then, instead, him. That single kiss with Jackson, his rough beard grazing his cheeks and then suddenly it was with Daniels, and then Haines. Aaron felt like he was going out of his mind.

Bizarrely, he couldn't wait to catch a glimpse of Daniels naked and he realised he was openly watching at times, the fear he felt, lending itself more to lust. Daniels noticed something was wrong, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as if he was trying to figure out what it was.

One night, Daniels had been thrown into isolation for fighting with Stalk again. Aaron was all alone and finally let it happen. He couldn't sleep. The arousal overwhelmed him, and he'd reached down between his legs, grabbed his penis and brought himself to ejaculation. He'd never allowed himself to do that, not once had he ever touched himself whilst fantasising about men. The image he'd worked with was him, bent over, arse out and Daniels' naked body behind. Aaron hated himself.

* * *

Aaron went back to 7 Boundary Close for a second time, his earlier cowardice not sitting right, and that need to deal with a situation at the forefront of his mind. That red door was just as red as before and his knock, just as unanswered. He waited for ages, banged on the door a few times and then sat in the car, willing for every person he saw to be the person he was waiting for. He didn't spot them.

Aaron turned around and went back to Emmerdale.

* * *

The prison library had six computers for the inmates. The computers had limited access to the internet and were mostly used for creating documents. Aaron didn't have anything to write, and so his intense boredom drove him to scan the few sites he could look at. This changed daily, depending on the events in the outside world. Most days you could access the BBC news website, unless there was sensitive information that the prisoners could not be privy too. Today, Aaron was reading the weather report, he didn't know why, he knew the weather, had stood outside in the yard as the mid-August sun tanned his face. Still, it was something to do.

Aaron tapped at the computer mouse and slumped in his chair. Yep, twenty-six degrees, perfect beach weather. Not that he'd get near a beach this year. His release would be in November, possibly a little earlier for good behaviour, but then he'd already spent time in isolation for attacking Simmons and thought that early release was unlikely. No, it would be November for him, when the weather was chilly and he'd be freezing cold on the garage forecourt. That's if he even had his job when he got out.

Aaron looked around the room absently. The library was quiet; it was just after lunch, when most of the inmates retreated to their beds, lounging over them as they digested their apparently nutritious lunch. Daniels had been in their room, recently out from a week's isolation and calmer since his wife was once again visiting. Aaron couldn't bear to be around him. He felt he'd crossed a line the other night whilst masturbating and the evidence was written plainly on his face for everyone to see. He was keeping away, keeping small and keeping out of sight. It was the only way.

He wondered if Daniels knew, wondered if he'd connected the dots. Wondered if those curious smiles and slight squinting meant he'd read Aaron like a book. Daniels never said anything and to be honest, his face was always as expressive, especially when he was tormenting someone, which luckily now seemed to exclude Aaron. Aaron realised why, he knew it was through fear of Louise finding out. For whatever reason, Daniels believed Aaron might say something and so left him alone. It was like through witnessing it, Aaron had entered into the secret code of conduct of 'don't ask, don't tell'. He realised that everyone knew what was going on as men had sex together, but unless you were homosexual, it was never openly discussed. There was almost a camaraderie about it, and togetherness, the understanding that they wouldn't be doing it in normal situations.

Aaron envied these people, whose desire bore from nothing but circumstance; he wished he was the same.

Whilst thinking this, he spied Daniels entering through the far door. Aaron ducked behind the computer before he was seen. He froze. Another inmate who 'helped' Daniels out regularly had entered the library ten minutes earlier. Aaron hadn't thought anything of it but he knew what was going on the moment he watched Daniels scan the room before ducking behind the shelves. Aaron remained perfectly still, focusing on the screen in front. There was one other person in the library, seemingly oblivious to what was happening in the room. Aaron couldn't understand it, this was hitting every one of his senses, so why not this other guy? He couldn't concentrate, his heartbeat increased and he wiped sweaty palms on his trouser legs. Aaron closed his eyes, readying to leave, wanting to get the hell away. But then as he neared the exit, he heard it, the exhale of a breath. It was hot and heavy and undeniably male.

Slowly, he crept along, quickly identified which aisle they were in and slid up the one in front. He kept low, taking his footsteps carefully. The breaths got slightly louder and Aaron moved around until he spied the blue fabric of jeans through a gap between books. Aaron held his breath.

Daniels was there, his long arms outstretched, holding the shelves for support. In front of Daniels was the other inmate, Bennett, an openly gay prisoner. He was down on his knees, nose deeply pressed to Daniels' hip bone. Daniels thrusted in and out evenly, his head tilted back.

Aaron jumped as Daniels looked directly at him. The man hesitated against Bennett's mouth, then he cocked an eyebrow at Aaron before giving his widest grin. Suddenly, those measured thrusts from before intensified until he was colliding into Bennett's mouth. But he wasn't groaning, or breathing deeply. No, he was under perfect control as he stared at Aaron, arrogance beaming from his eyes, biting his lip knowingly and slamming harder and harder.

Aaron didn't leave until they'd finished.

* * *

Cain Dingle, Aaron's uncle, had been the first person to spot Jackson, or more precisely, his van. It didn't take long, just the first morning of him working in the village. Jackson didn't know Cain at the time and didn't recall seeing him in court. He'd not even been aware as he stood, arms crossed and glare fierce as Jackson unloaded his toolbox gingerly. The first person Jackson knew, that become aware of him, was Ryan, the man who he'd sat with whilst Aaron was wound up about needing a girlfriend. Quickly, from here, the news of his arrival spread. It was no surprise when Aaron's mother was the first to approach him.

"Jackson," Chastity nodded her greeting, the movement curt. She had her hands bunched up in her sleeves and taut expression on her face.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm working."

"Here?" she looked at him incredulously.

"Yeah, I know, it's not ideal, but I couldn't turn down the work." There was nothing more the woman could say, they both knew this. She turned to leave.

"How's Aaron?"

Chastity snorted at him, she shook her head and walked away.

Paddy had been friendlier, offering to buy Jackson a coffee and filling him in on how Aaron was getting on. He'd even been apologetic that Aaron hadn't replied to Jackson's letter. Jackson kindly dismissed the apology and decided to keep his head down. It wasn't that simple in a village the size of Emmerdale, where everyone knew everyone else and where everyone had a good memory. Those who'd witnessed Aaron's assault on Jackson identified him immediately, those who didn't, heard soon after.

It was like living in a fish bowl.

* * *

Aaron stirred his coffee and screwed up the sugar wrapper before half-heartedly throwing it at Victoria. His friend smiled at him, pleadingly. "Please?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Just because, all right?" Victoria slumped back into her chair, momentarily looking around the coffee shop. She'd invited him out, the two of them having not seen much of each other since his release, and despite being peppered with questions about being gay, he was enjoying himself. Aaron couldn't really blame her, they had, after all, dated some time ago and even more recently he'd tried it on with her. They had 'that' conversation a few days after Aaron came home and now their chat was reduced to mostly banter when it came to the subject on his sexuality. Aaron put up with it, trying to be good-humoured, trying to sit proud and not run away to hide in shame. Most days he managed it. "I've never been to a gay bar before."

"You're not missing much." Victoria pouted but it made no difference.

They were interrupted by Adam as he came through the door. He nodded, asked Brenda for a coffee and joined them, dragging a chair across from another table. "Hey, how you guys doing?"

"Good, ta," Aaron answered, "you?"

"Good," he smiled at Victoria, who nudged him and gestured to Aaron. "He won't take me with him to a gay bar." Adam's smile widened, "why not?"

"Because…" Aaron searched for a response, "because… I'm not even going to any gay bars."

"Why not?" Victoria frowned, "How are you going to meet anyone if you don't?"

"I don't want to meet anyone, OK?"

"I don't believe that. Come on, let me…"

"Victoria, just drop it!" Aaron sounded harsher than he meant to be. "OK, sorry." She shared a look with Adam, "I'm just going to the toilet."

Adam waited until she was out of earshot, "You were a bit harsh, mate."

"Maybe."

"She's just looking out for you."

Aaron folded his arms, "Well, I don't need her to."

"She's got a point though, you're not going to meet anyone sitting around here, are you? Unless… of course…" Adam trailed off.

"What?"

"Unless you're still hung up on Jackson?" Hung up on Jackson? Aaron didn't know. They were meant to be friends, or on the way to it. Their conversation last week had cleared the air and now they were acknowledging each other in the street. Aaron had even signed a delivery note for Declan's new bathtub. He'd even helped Jackson wrestle it up the stair, the two of them talking for ten minutes after. It was a little awkward, Aaron just didn't know how to be Jackson's friend. They'd never been friends, they'd met and been on the way to becoming more, unsure conversation, leading to flirty banter until they'd kissed. How did they go from that to just friends?

"Me and Jackson are just friends."

"Can't see yourself picking up where you left off then?"

Aaron sighed, "I think it's best we stay away from that."

"Yeah, maybe." Adam paused as Brenda placed his coffee on the table, he smiled at her warmly. "Well, then, in that case, Victoria has even more of a point. It's been a month now. You said yourself that you wanted to get on with life."

"I do."

Adam met Aaron's eyes, "So go on then, get on with it."


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Thank you Sylvain**

* * *

Aaron felt a listlessness since returning home, he felt trapped in this strained place. He was free and yet not so, his memories of prison keeping him there. Those who cared about him easily noticed, his mother in particular wore those etched worry lines at his thousand-yard stare. But Aaron couldn't help it, he found himself repeatedly dragged back to everything that had transpired. His mind's eye would linger on all those conversations over a bowl of cereal. He'd zone out thinking about threats and looks whilst watching TV with Paddy. And he'd recoil over touches when trying to keep occupied at work.

He was stuck, utterly stuck in no man's land, not able to move into the future and yet unable to confront his past. It kept him awake at night and it kept his family close by, watchful eyes constantly upon him. Aaron felt exhausted.

Maybe this was why he was out tonight. Maybe it was because he was mindful of everyone's fears for him. Maybe it was because Adam had reminded him a few weeks ago that he'd intended to 'get on with his life'. Maybe. Whatever the reason, he now found himself in Bar West, waist deep in anxiety and clinging to the bar to prevent himself from leaving. Bar West, where it all began nine months ago. Where he met Jackson, where he ran away terrified – _just as he was thinking of doing now_. Where he and Jackson had shared their one and only kiss and where after that night he had been resolute that he would never return. From his stall at the bar, Aaron turned, scanning the room. He blinked, because there, in his red plaid shirt, two arms leaning heavily against the pool table, looking directly at Aaron, was Jackson. How could life throw such a coincidental moment? Jackson's face displayed a half-unsure, half-surprised look and he smiled. Aaron gave an uneasy smile back.

He'd not even considered that Jackson would be here tonight, or maybe he had. There wasn't exactly a vast choice for the gay hangout in Hotten and so, in the back of his mind, he knew there was a chance he would find Jackson here, just as he had every other time. A part of him was even hoping he would be, because for weeks something was niggling at Aaron. It was an apology, or rather the lack of apology he'd made for assaulting Jackson. The apology that had ample opportunity to be aired and yet failed to materialise. Why? In Jackson's van the other week, their conversations had quickly swirled above and beyond that incident from six months ago. They'd touched on the unanswered letter Jackson sent and Aaron's assault. Aaron had even confessed Daniels' involvement and his death. All these things had pushed the apology further and further away and at no time since then had Aaron felt it was appropriate. Maybe now was the time.

He watched Jackson say something to a friend, who turned to look at Aaron. Their conversation became heated before Jackson walked towards him, his friend glaring from where he stood. Maybe now wasn't the time.

"Hey, didn't expect to see you here."

"No, I thought I'd come down, see if the place has changed." It hadn't, the décor was still yellow and green, there was still ridiculously good-looking men on the dance floor and that same drag queen was still wandering about trying to get drinks bought for her.

"Better than you remember, huh?"

Aaron smiled, "Something like that." There was this weird, uneasy truce between Aaron and Jackson that was kind of lending itself towards friendship. Even so, this jokey, light conversation sat awkwardly and he wondered if Jackson felt the same. If so, then Jackson hid it extremely well, but then Aaron didn't believe that the other man hid anything, ever. He had this charming confidence of a person who was completely comfortable with whom they were. Even now as he leaned against the bar, flashing that smile, he was perfectly open and calm. Aaron envied him.

"Are you meeting anyone?"

"Erm… no."

"Come and join us." Aaron glanced back to Jackson's friends. There were three of them, two that Aaron vaguely recognised, stood watching. He could see that they didn't look impressed.

"No, you're alright."

"You're more than welcome."

One of Jackson's friends, a tall, black man wearing a grey vest, appeared really angry, gesturing towards them as the other two stood, arms crossed. It was obvious what this was all about and Aaron felt his cheeks grow hot, he hated being the centre of conversation. It didn't take a genius to realise that they knew the exact history of Aaron and Jackson and were not pleased with them conversing. "No, you're alright, I'm OK here."

"OK." He wasn't sure, but he thought he read disappointment on Jackson's face as he walked away.

Amazingly, Aaron didn't allow this encounter to chase him out of the bar. Amazingly, he'd bought another pint and even ignored Jackson's friend who had stared daggers at him whilst ordering a round. Amazingly, Aaron felt quite calm, although this was probably due to his fourth pint within forty-five minutes. Anyway, he was now in a determined mood. He had a mission tonight that involved apologising to Jackson, he couldn't leave until the task was done and yet he couldn't find the courage to go over where his friends stood.

It was a Wednesday night, where apparently even the thought of work the next day wasn't enough to make people turn in early. The music was blaring, bodies all around merged as they laughed and danced, and the bar was crowded. He sensed rather than saw Jackson as he approached.

"You surprise me." Jackson leant closer to be heard over the music.

"Huh?"

"You've been here for a while." Aaron didn't understand, he frowned slightly. "I thought you'd have that one pint and then leave. This isn't exactly your natural habitat."

"I'm getting used to it."

"Yeah."

"That… and I'm on my way to getting merry."

"Me to, can I buy you a drink?" Aaron barely thought about it. He was weary of how hated he was by Jackson's friends, but then this was his opportunity to apologise. "Sure."

Jackson's chatter immediately fell into banter and Aaron slowly eased into it, their conversation fuelled by alcohol and the comical characters around, who gave them a wealth of things to talk about. One such guy – a Peter Stringfellow doppelganger, was hitting on a much younger and uninterested guy. Neither Aaron nor Jackson could stop laughing.

As it got later, the bar became crowded and they moved to lean against a circular table further from the dance floor, and thus it was easier to be heard. Aaron found himself genuinely having a good time. He liked how close Jackson was standing as he spoke, he liked how he kept picking up the scent of his aftershave. And he liked how every now and again Jackson kind of danced on the spot. Jackson was a terrible dancer.

Their jovial spirit was interrupted when one of Jackson's friends came over. "We're going." The friend flashed Aaron a look. Aaron didn't return it, knowing that this man had every right to be so weary.

Jackson smiled, "OK."

"You coming?"

"No, I'm staying here."

"Why?" There was obvious confrontation in the friend's voice and Aaron could see Jackson sigh. "Because we're talking."

"That better be all you're doing." Silence descended between them as the friend walked off. Aaron cleared his throat, "maybe you should go with them."

"I'm sorry he was like that."

"Don't apologise." In that moment, the alcohol he'd drunk seemed suddenly defunct. The smudges at the side of the room cleared and Jackson and the reality of everything came crashing down. What was he thinking, chatting away like two old friends? Surely there was too much history and not enough distance between them. The conversation a few weeks ago in Jackson's van had achieved so many things; it had cleared the air and given him a starting point. But Aaron needed to apologise for hitting Jackson. That one thing should have been voiced before anything else, not joking over how Jackson always seemed to wear the same red shirt, or how Aaron must have had a personality transplant because he actually seems to be enjoying himself. Aaron needed to speak now, this was another thing keeping him awake at night, one of those undone requirements that he needed to do, along with all the others. "I should be the one apologising, not you." Jackson raised an eyebrow.

"I never said sorry for hitting you. For the life of me, I don't know why I haven't said anything."

"It's OK, I know you're sorry."

"It's not OK." It really wasn't. They were in that van, and all Jackson got was a lousy can of Coke and a feeble apology about being ignored. "I should have said something the other week. I can't believe that you're not pissed at me for not."

Jackson reached out a hand and rubbed Aaron's arm, it made him tingle and when it was removed he felt its wake. "It's OK, we got side-tracked talking about your attack and…" Jackson hesitated, "and that man, who's dead now, Daniels." Aaron ducked his head, why had he mentioned that? He was kicking himself now.

Jackson caught his eyes, "You want to talk about him now?"

"No!" He almost wanted to laugh, "I'm trying to apologise here."

"OK, OK." Jackson's smile came easily and Aaron felt his stomach flip. "God you're a better person than me." He didn't get a response from the older man. "So that's it? After all that, I'm just forgiven for everything?"

"Am I forgiven?"

"For what?"

Jackson shifted, he searched momentarily for the words, "I know I was pushing you and I shouldn't have turned up at the pub that day and I shouldn't have put any pressure on you. I know that I should have backed off and given you some time to deal with some stuff." He met Aaron's eyes, "but I liked you a lot and it made me want to rush things." He sniffed, breaking eye contact, "but that's all in the past now, we're friends, and yeah, you're forgiven." It all hit Aaron in that moment – he was a fool, a fucking idiot, who didn't know how lucky he had it until it was all gone. "Thanks," he barely managed a smile as Jackson left to get more drinks.

At eleven-thirty, Aaron knew he had to leave. He had to because otherwise he'd miss the last bus back to Emmerdale and he couldn't afford the taxi back. He didn't want to, much preferring to stay in the warm company of Jackson, whose smile gave Aaron goosebumps, and who never ran out of things to say – something that Aaron constantly struggled with. Not that it mattered, Jackson's tone was deep and dulcet. They'd moved even further from the music and now no longer needed to raise their voices. Aaron was intent to just listen and he found Jackson fascinating – just as he had before.

They both rose to pull on their coats. "Where do you have to go?" Jackson asked as he drained the last of his drink. "The bus stop on Mortom Street."

"That's on my route home." Aaron smiled.

The late December air had a sharp coldness to it and they both walked, shoulders hunched up and hands in pockets. Jackson talked, it was mostly inconsequential things about good club nights in Bar West and the time his mate threw up on his shoes. They'd carried on talking for another ten minutes at the bus stop, Aaron liking that Jackson had made no move to continue his journey. All this distracted him from the fact that the bus hadn't arrived.

Aaron scanned the timetable, "Shit."

"What?"

"They changed the time for the last bus, I didn't even think to check. I just thought it would be the same." He watched Jackson scan the timetable, "Oops. What now?"

"Taxi."

"How much will that cost you?"

"Twenty-five quid, unless that's changed as well."

Jackson crossed his arms, "You can't do that. I've got a sofa you can sleep on. I'll drive you to the village in the morning."

"Err…" Aaron felt weird, as if he was a giant façade. Here was Jackson, offering genuine friendship but Aaron couldn't ignore the way the other man still made him feel, couldn't ignore that he was reading more into this gesture than intended. "I'll be OK."

"Don't be daft," Jackson looked at him as if he was insane, "come on, we're friends now, tonight has proven we can be, hasn't it?"

"I guess."

"Come on then."

Jackson lived on a parade of shops above a barber's; it took them less than ten minutes to reach it. Inside was just as cold as outside and Jackson had explained how he only switched on the heat when at home in the evenings. He ran about turning on lamps and turning up the thermostat. Aaron looked around keenly. It was small, with a kitchen off the side of the lounge and a separate bathroom and bedroom. The place was neatly furnished, simple in taste. Building trade magazines were stacked in the corner and Sean Connery hung on the wall in a James Bond poster. Aaron liked it. He liked how Jackson's Xbox stood pride of place and how the coffee table was littered with takeaway menus – the man had his priorities right.

Jackson made coffee and pulled a large quilt from his bedroom. The coffee was welcomed, Aaron felt blurrier now away from the neon lights of Bar West and whilst not drunk, he could still feel the effects of the alcohol. Jackson appeared the same, he inelegantly dropped down next to Aaron, tucked his feet under him and rested his head against the back of the sofa. "So you think you'll be warm enough?"

"I'm sure I will, as long as I don't sleep naked."

"You can borrow some pyjamas," Jackson grinned as he said this, his eyes closing. Aaron watched him. He watched as Jackson's nose softly flared whilst taking a deep breath. He watched his eyelids flutter and then, he watched a hand swipe through soft, brown curls. Aaron was still watching when Jackson opened his eyes.

The pause couldn't have lasted long, not even a second as their eyes met, and not even a second between then and when Jackson closed the gap, cupping Aaron's face and kissing him.

The kiss lasted longer.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

The kiss was delicate and Jackson's rough hand was a feather light touch to Aaron's cheek. Aaron barely had time to catch up, they were talking and laughing and then their eyes were upon one another and then Jackson was leaning towards him and capturing his lips. Aaron responded. It was just as he remembered, full, slightly chapped lips barely on his own and the grazing of a beard against his cheek. When Jackson pulled away, Aaron willed him to continue and when Jackson looked at him, mouth open, Aaron swallowed hard. This couldn't end.

They fell towards each other in that same moment, mouths seeking the other and the speed of their kisses increasing. They held one another's head firmly, moving around, pulling teeth across bottom lips and sucking on tongues. A hand caressed down Aaron's chest, felt through his T-shirt, and the swell of arousal made his kisses harder. They were on their feet, holding necks, tripping over the edge of the sofa and falling against the wall, all the while never separating. Here they stalled, "I want you," Jackson whispered. Jackson was slightly taller than Aaron, his mouth at the perfect height to say those words into his ear and cause a shudder. "I want to be with you." Aaron nodded. They reached for each other's clothes, impatience slowing them down. Their hot, heavy breaths sounded in the silence of the room. Aaron fumbled with Jackson's buttons, and Jackson pulled Aaron's T-shirt up over his head. Incessant kisses trailed Aaron's neck and he felt himself pushed back against the door frame. Jackson leant his full body against Aaron's as he threaded a hand between the waist of Aaron's jeans, sliding over skin and slipping inside his boxer shorts. Aaron's silent gasps propelled him to tug at Jackson's trouser. They separated long enough to kick off their shoes before reuniting, teeth clashing and bodies bouncing off the door frame to fall into Jackson's bedroom.

Trousers and underwear were removed. The two of them stood facing each other, erection standing proudly, skin tingling from a need to be touched. Jackson was beautiful, Aaron couldn't deny this. His slighter frame was defined, his hip bones protruded and his penis curved slightly upwards. This was all too much, in Aaron's wildest dreams he wouldn't believe this was happening. During those long nights in his cell, he had imagined this, the two of them reaching out to one another and coming together. He didn't want to ruin it now, didn't want to give Jackson any reason to change his mind. Any moment now he could remember what a psycho Aaron could be and curse himself for starting all this up again. He needed to be kept in the moment and not allowed a thought to enter his head.

Aaron dropped to his knees, leaning forwards and capturing the tip of Jackson's penis with his tongue. He moved closer, wrapping his arms until he had Jackson's buttocks cradled in his hands and then lowered his mouth. Jackson sucked in a hard breath. Taking him all in, Aaron relaxed his throat, moving up and down, locking eyes with Jackson, who through his arousal was clearly surprised. Back and forth Aaron moved, changing speed, pulling out and running his tongue up and down Jackson shaft. Jackson's nostrils flared as he shuddered out his breath, his knees bent before straightening and then hands were pushing Aaron away. "Wait, wait." Aaron looked up confused. "What's wrong?"

"I just…" he tried to compose himself, "I'm gonna…"

From his kneeling position on the floor, Aaron felt nervous, this couldn't end. "What?" Jackson reached down to pull Aaron up, he clutched his face and rested his forehead against Aaron's. His grin was telling, "We need to slow down." Aaron exhaled his relief and shared a smile.

Their renewed kisses were gentler and their touches lingering. Jackson led Aaron to the bed, covering him with his own body and kissing him deeply. He kissed his cheeks, eyelids, neck and then moved further down Aaron's body, those kisses reaching his thighs and touching his penis. Aaron gasped. Hands delicately swiped over Aaron's arms and as Jackson moved back up, he turned Aaron on his side, laying behind him, cradling tightly. Aaron sensed him hesitate. Jackson whispered, "I want to be inside you." His breath collided against skin in waves and caused shivers to run down Aaron's spine. Aaron nodded without hesitation.

He felt Jackson move away, watched him walk around the room in the glow of the dim lamp. As he returned, Jackson unwrapped a condom and rolled it down over his penis. He lay back behind Aaron and kissed his neck, reaching down, his hand found Aaron's anus and a finger rubbed over it. Aaron moved back, eagerly deepening the connection, and he could read surprise on Jackson's face as they kissed. "Do it," Aaron spoke softly.

Slowly, carefully, Jackson brought the tip of his penis to Aaron's anus, he pushed. Aaron bit his bottom lip and held his breath. Jackson pressed deeper and Aaron closed his eyes, waiting for the slight pain to subside. They stopped when Aaron felt Jackson's hip bone against his back. "Are you OK?" Jackson asked. "Yeah."

Jackson began moving back and forth, Aaron clutched the bed covers and gritted his teeth at the familiar sensation. He felt it, that sweet exquisiteness between pain and pleasure and Aaron stayed there, enjoying the moment, riding the waves. Jackson increased the speed of his thrusts and Aaron moved back to meet him. They kept this pace, in and out, back and forth. Their rhythm steady, their orgasms building. The cold from before was now forgotten against the heat pooling around them. They kissed again, deeply, an intensity returning. They sucked on each other's tongues, hands dug deeply into Aaron's hips. Jackson sped up, pounding harder and harder. He stopped, pulled out and moved to the foot of the bed. Aaron moved down on instinct, he threw his legs over Jackson's shoulders and gasped as he was re-entered.

They continued like this, rocking back and forth, Aaron's whole body jerking with each thrust as Jackson's breaths came out in harsh rasps. It was becoming too much, the sensations, the whole body experience. The clear syllables of Aaron's name were cried out and Aaron covered his face with his hands, lost in the moment. He felt them batted away, "No, I want to see your face."

Jackson pounded him. Fingers bruised Aaron's thighs. A hand reached down to Aaron's penis, applying pressure, squeezing, tugging and jerking. Aaron looked at Jackson, his teeth scrapped over swollen lips. Jackson's eyes bore into Aaron's as he grasped his penis, expertly synching his movements with the rhythm of his thrust. Jackson was beautiful and this was amazing and this was everything he'd ever wanted.

Aaron called out as his orgasm peaked, he shuddered through it, peering through slit eyelids as Jackson's grunts signalled he'd reached climax. He collapsed, still inside Aaron and they shared sweaty kisses and stupid smiles.

It was a long time before Jackson moved.

* * *

Daniels' face peered up from Aaron's bed. He was laying there, hands behind his head, legs crossed, his customary vile smirk beamed wider than it ever had before. Aaron felt sick. When the bell rang, that was it. You had no choice, no choice to wander down to the chapel or remain in the laundry room. No choice to watch TV or converse with a friend. When that bell sounded its clanging, you had to stop what you were doing, you had to be in your cell. That bell signalled it was bed time, time for the doors to be locked, time to face Daniels and time to deal with the fallout from earlier. Aaron paused against the wall, he watched Daniels' eyebrow raise and his smile, if possible got broader. He climbed up from Aaron's bed, gesturing his hand as if to say, 'here you go', and then his arms folded. Aaron proceeded to find his tooth brush, keeping low and ducking his head. "You enjoyed yourself earlier?" He froze as Daniels spoke and then carried on with his task.

"I said did you enjoy yourself earlier?"

Adrenaline quaked Aaron's body, "no."

"That's funny, cause, I noticed you didn't try to get away too quickly." He felt Daniels come up behind, his presence like a giant, ominous cloud. "In fact, Livesy," Daniels blocked his way as Aaron tried to reach the sink, "you didn't try to leave at all, you seemed to quite enjoy watching Bennett going to town on me." Aaron wished he had ignored his desires and continued out of the library, if he had then he wouldn't be here now, feeling this intense fear and wishing he was someone else. "You know, I notice lots of things, Livesy." Daniels began walking towards Aaron, crowding the younger man until his back hit the frame of the bunk bed. "I notice all sorts of things. Like, for instance, I notice how you glance at me when you think I'm not looking." Arms rose to either side of Aaron's head and Daniels lent his full weight on them. "I notice how you openly stare at me when you think I'm distracted." He was close, so close. From here, Aaron could see his strong jawline, could see every pore on his skin and the green flecks in his otherwise hazel-coloured eyes. "I notice how you watch me undress and..." Daniels lowered his voice, his cigarette breath, barely hidden by mint, made Aaron turn his head away. "And, I notice how you look at my cock after I've showered." Aaron couldn't help it, the proximity of that warm body, Daniels whispered words against his ear and the way he licked his lips. All these things swirled together, felt by Aaron, building an arousal that he was horrified and terrified by just as much as he was excited. "But then I think to myself 'hang on a minute, Livesy ain't into that. Livesy beat up a kid who was into that. That's why Livesy's in here'."

Aaron swallowed.

"Unless," Daniels eye widened, "unless, of course, Livesy likes it very much." He grinned. "And when Livesy sees men sucking my cock, he wishes he was the one on his knees." A stubbly face lay against Aaron's cheek, it caused his breathe to quicken. "And maybe, Livesy likes cock up his arse? Maybe, Livesy wants _my_ cock up his arse?" Daniels pulled back, he raised an eyebrow, challenging Aaron who wanted this more than how much he didn't want it.

His silence was taken as permission.

Hands yanked at Aaron's trousers, dragging his underwear down with them and exposing Aaron's half erect penis. Daniels chuckled. Humiliation barely registered. He spun Aaron around, bent him over and whispered, "This is going to be the best fuck you've ever had." Aaron gripped the bed. His penis swelled, the anticipation breaking through to the surface. He heard the hurried undoing of a belt buckle, hot hands grabbed his hips and Aaron was forced to bend over further before a spitting noise was heard. Suddenly, panick bubbled to the surface, 'I don't want to do this,' Aaron thought, 'I can't do this. I'm not one of them. I'm not one of them." He didn't say a word.

Pain exploded as rough fingers entered him. His knees buckled but Aaron was caught by Daniels wiry arm around his waist, "Wow there," Aaron could hear the boastful sneer in those words, "the best is yet to come."

Aaron cried out as Daniels pushed his penis inside him. It was louder than intended, more sob than desire. He had underestimated the pain, it was like being forced apart from the inside. The intensity more than he could have imagined and his fingers turned white as they gripped the bedframe. Daniels hesitated behind him, "you ain't ever been fucked before, have you?"

Aaron didn't answer. He breathed heavily, head down, perspiration created from fear, running down his nose. He didn't know what was best, be honest or lie? Would Daniels stop? Would Daniels walk away? Did he want him to?

He didn't speak.

After a moment, Daniels spoke, "That's fine by me, it's been a while since I fucked a virgin." He moved against Aaron, his realisation not affecting his approach, not slowing him down or making him gentler. He pushed inside forcefully, digging his fingers into Aaron's shoulders. He spoke through gritted teeth, each word accompanying a thrust. "I enjoy breaking someone in."

Aaron tried to stay quiet, it was impossible. The pain overwhelmed him, a short, sharp stab landing in a place that Aaron didn't realise existed. He cried out as Daniels sped up and felt a hard slap across his head. "Shut up, someone will hear us." Daniels kept going, pulling out and slamming back in, his thumbs pressed into Aaron's shoulder blade, it was a relentless assault, showing no signs of slowing down. Tears of pain sprung to Aaron's eyes, he cried out again. "Jesus Christ, will you shut the fuck up!" Something was roughly shoved in Aaron's mouth. It was possibly one of Daniels socks.

They continued like this, Daniels speeding up, forcing every movement, the texture of cotton rubbing along Aaron's teeth and tongue, gagging him. Daniels slapped Aaron across the head a few more times for no reason than just the excitement of it. He pulled Aaron's T-shirt up over his head and bit on his neck. He slapped Aaron hard across the buttocks and bent over him, forcing Aaron lower and grinding his way day.

Aaron thought he was going to pass out. He couldn't cope with the pain or the weight of the other man. His breath was ragged, his vision darkening. He fell forward onto his bed, Daniels right behind, still inside, still pounding, seemingly no end in sight.

When Daniels finally ejaculated, it was all over Aaron's back. Aaron barely reacted. He sensed Daniels moving around, pulling up or taking off his jeans, Aaron couldn't guess which and he didn't even try. Numbness shocked his limbs, stopping Aaron from moving, his heartbeat still thudded and as Daniels climbed into his bed, Aaron just lay there, his erection untouched and his breathing slowly returning to normal.

He didn't sleep that night.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

The first person to approach Jackson whilst working in the village was this small, old woman, who'd come up to him in the pub and sat down without invitation. Her name was Pearl. Jackson had only been working for Declan for three days, and it was almost six weeks since Aaron began his sentence. She was flustered and embarrassed and Jackson had looked at her wide-eyed and perplexed as to why his lunch had been interrupted. Pearl didn't waste any time making her point. "He's not a bad lad, really." And Jackson had known she was talking about Aaron.

"I work in the veterinary surgery as the office manager, you see. I've gotten to know him and Paddy quite well." Jackson nodded. "He's rough around the edges but there is a good side to him. He's not had it easy." For the life of him, Jackson couldn't understand why this woman was talking to him. Why try to convince him of Aaron's virtues? It's not like she was aware of their relationship, or was she? The answer came in the next sentence. "I'm a bit of an honorary grandmother, you see." Jackson got it, this was about family.

She'd been the only one to speak positively; some people said that Aaron got what he'd deserved. Others said it should have been a longer sentence. One person said that there was nothing wrong with being gay. Jackson had snidely replied that he 'appreciated the permission'.

One day, Jackson was in the café and had to suffer through a woman's assurances that 'not everyone in the village was a psycho', when he became aware of her pausing and straightening uncomfortably. He turned in his seat.

Chastity Dingle, Aaron's mother, had entered. Her expression said she'd heard every word. She was a bizarre mix, looking half livid and half like she was about to cry. Jackson was almost going to offer his apology, but then he didn't. He, after all, was the one who'd been assaulted.

Chastity couldn't have left any quicker.

* * *

The light from the new dawn slowly entered the room and Aaron watched as the objects around his cell become clearer. There was the chair by his bed, its shadow deep from what appeared to be a bright day outside. There was a poster on the wall with a beam of light bouncing off it, obscuring the image. There was his toothbrush, lit up by the sun and still on the floor from when it had fallen the previous evening. Aaron curled tighter on his bed. He stared at the toothbrush, remembering how it had been dropped onto his duvet as Aaron wrapped his fists around the bed frame, the force of his and Daniels' movements rocking it onto the floor. Aaron felt sick. He'd not slept much, possibly not at all, and instead replayed the previous evening in his head, over and over and not quite believing it had happened. He kept himself still, convinced if he did then it would eradicate everything, undo yesterday and rewind. It didn't work and instead he held a breath every time Daniels turned over on his top bunk or exhaled slightly deeper or made even the slightest sign he was waking up. And when that sharp, clanging bell signalled it was time to get up, Aaron pressed his eyes together tightly. He was asleep, _he was asleep_.

He felt Daniels drop down from his bed, heard the scratch of nails against fabric and a hard sniff. He sensed Daniels looking at him.

"Livesy." Daniels said his name again, this time with a prod. He got no answer and so sat himself beside Aaron, close, he shook him slightly. Aaron opened his eyes.

"You're not dead, then." A low chuckle followed. Aaron looked up into Daniels' eyes; those flecks of green were still so prominent amongst the hazel colouring. He remembered how full of desire they had been the night before.

"You enjoyed yourself then?" The question didn't accompany genuine interest, every syllable dripped with laughter. He stood up and walked to the mirror, checking his reflection.

Aaron hadn't enjoyed it and he'd wished he'd stopped it. Wished that he'd walked away from the challenge Daniels made. Wished he'd caught Daniels hands when they went for his jeans. Wished that when Daniels realised he was a virgin, spoke out how he wanted it to stop. He hadn't and as a result, he'd never felt fear or pain like it. Never felt so entirely humiliated in his life. Him bent over, Daniels slapping and hitting him, ejaculating over his back. His cheeks flamed when he thought of it.

Daniels ran a hand over his short, ginger hair, his grin, reflected in the mirror, froze before he repeated the question.

But there were also other things that kept entering Aaron's mind. He remembered how that hot breath against his neck ignited a lust that he couldn't walk away from. He remembered that Aaron desperately wanted Daniels to continue when he spoke of his virginity. He remembered the undeniable male scent that still lingered, and the way a hard chest had pressed against his back. He couldn't ignore how he'd never been more turned on in his life. Forget the pain, forget how awful it was, because beneath it all was something more, something that he enjoyed.

Aaron didn't answer.

"You ever given someone a blow job?" Aaron ducked his eyes, he couldn't look at the other man. "Well, when you're ready, you let me know. I'll be your test pilot." He winked and walked away.

Aaron was ready sooner than he expected. He'd found that he'd now crossed a line, had a taster of his true desires and no amount of self-hatred or denial could put the genie back in the bottle. It was a Monday, and their cells had just passed a spot inspection, something that shouldn't have happened considering the contraband Daniels had hidden in there. Daniels had been giddy, laughing and elbowing Aaron in the ribs as if the two of them had been in on it together. Aaron even found himself caught up in the elation, he almost smiled as Daniels performed a stupid dance around their room

Daniels was suddenly looming over him. "You've got to suck me off!" Aaron blinked at him, not understanding.

"You know…" Daniels gestured with his mouth and hand. Panic rose in Aaron. He wasn't going to do that. He'd resolved that the other day would be the one and only experience of that kind.

"Come on man, I've got to get off!" He couldn't do it, he just couldn't. Daniels looked at him and flashes of that night returned and then Aaron knew he wanted to, so much.

"Seriously, getting one over the guards makes me horny."

Aaron ducked his eyes as he moved towards him.

It wasn't a particularly great experience, Daniels applied his customary 'use them and lose them' attitude as Aaron was down on his knees, bobbing up and down and gagging, the whole time cursing himself at his faltering resolve.

When Daniels ejaculated, it was in his mouth and Aaron's eyes went wide. A hand covered his lips when he tried to spit. "No, swallow." Aaron looked up at him. "You'll love it." Daniels was giving a reassuring smile, and Aaron did as he was instructed, surprised that in that moment he trusted the other man.

A week later, Daniels pulled out a bottle of whisky, the last of his contraband and shared it with Aaron. The two of them got drunk and had sex again. The alcohol dulled Aaron's memories further and fuelled his arousal. This time they tumbled together, clumsily pulling off clothes and bumping heads against the bed frame. This time hadn't been any better, but it had been gentler and Aaron had looked in disbelief the next morning when Daniels was still in his bed. The other man had just grunted as he woke and climbed up onto his own bunk.

The first time Aaron initiated sex, Daniels' mouth had split into the widest grin. "You know what, Livesy, I wasn't that keen when I found out you were moving in here." He leant back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. "But I think this is going to work out great."

* * *

When Aaron woke up, he lay momentarily, struggling to identify what he was feeling. He curled over onto his back and cast his eyes around the room. On the drawers sat a hard hat and, draped over the back of a chair, was a plaid red shirt. That's when it hit Aaron, he was in Jackson's bed, that emotion he was feeling, was happiness. No, screw happiness, he was elated.

Jackson wasn't there, but his smell still lingered. The sheets on his side still showed the imprint of a body. Aaron rested his hand over it, finding it was still warm. He smiled.

"Jackson?" He called out tentatively, feeling nervous and embarrassed and yet giddy over the previous evening. There was no answer. Aaron climbed out of the bed, finding his underwear and trousers on the floor, he grinned remembering how they were pulled off. "Jackson?"

Jackson was in the living room, a dressing gown on and a cup of coffee in his hand. He didn't smile. "Morning," nerves forced Aaron's hands deep into his pockets as he leant against the door frame, "you alright?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Good."

"Good," Jackson shifted, "Look, Aaron, I know I said I would drive you back to the village, but I've got to pick up some stuff." He got up and walked over to the kitchen. "It might be best if you get the bus." He wasn't really looking at Aaron.

"OK." If Aaron were a bird, then he was a soaring one that had just been shot down. He watched Jackson busy himself with cleaning his mug. "I'll see you around then?"

"Yeah."

Aaron got out as quickly as possible, hating himself, wanting to ask Jackson what was going on. He couldn't though; conversation, emotional truths and being honest had never been something he could handle.

Aaron punched the wall once he'd left. It was either that or cry.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Thank you Sylvain.**

**And thank you to everyone who has left reviews, I really appreciate that you take the time.**

* * *

It always amazed Aaron how easily one man could intimidate another and how it was merely a set of inclinations that drove an interaction. Maybe person A's inclination is to cower and person B's inclination to terrorize. Perhaps person A couldn't defend themselves whilst person B felt no fear. This is what it all came down to, a set of inclinations that sat directly opposite one another, shaping how two people behaved towards each other. Otherwise, there would be no victim and bully, otherwise, there would be no Daniels and this other guy, Thorpe, who, incidentally, was Daniels' latest victim.

Aaron leaned against the door frame to his cell, watching Daniels. This Thorpe guy, who'd only been around a few days and was in for fraud, was now Daniels' latest play thing. He was a wealthy man, made obvious by is accent and his fish-out-of-water manner. He was probably in his mid-thirties – similar to Daniels – and had a constantly clammy forehead; Aaron wasn't sure if this was due to his current predicament or if he always suffered with it.

Whatever the cause, he was now sweating profusely, no doubt because he was trying to sit somewhere and Daniels wasn't having any of it. There were plenty of tables and empty seats but Daniels remained staring and grinning, as he always did, until Thorpe forwent sitting and instead headed straight for his cell, clearly dejected and embarrassed. Aaron could understand, Daniels' behaviour was elementary, something done for spite by adolescents, not what you'd expect from a grown-up – even in prison.

He didn't get it, couldn't fathom why Daniels behaved the way he did, why torment? Why make people miserable for seemingly no reason but for the fun of it? Aaron wasn't perfect, he'd never claimed to be and had even terrorised people in the past. But there was always a reason, deep down he'd always had a motive. Paddy had been one of them he'd terrorised but that had never been for the fun of it, not really. It had been a test; he'd wanted to see how long his mother would put up with him before she'd thrown him out and left him again. She'd left him anyway, only for different reasons.

Daniels was still grinning and some inmates were laughing with him although it was for no reason other than it broke up their day. Aaron watched Daniels call out to Thorpe saying that 'he could sit down after all' and 'that he was only joking'. Thorpe walked out sheepishly, laughing as if he'd been in on it all along but his nerves were frayed, it was obvious. When Daniels' eyes meet his own, Aaron found himself frowning.

Aaron turned back to his cell, tired of watching cat-and-mouse game, and he lounged out onto his bed. It was the last day of August and the afternoon sun was causing the room to glow, he closed his eyes and allowed the warmth to take him to more exotic places. Yep, he was definitely there, he was in Ibiza, away from horrible prison food, and the colour grey, which he'd never seen so much of in his life and away from the guards telling you when to sleep and the other inmates bored listlessness. He pictured palm trees and ice cream and heat causing his skin to tingle whilst soft waves tickled his feet. The fantasy ended when he heard the slide of a foot over tiled flooring and knew Daniels had entered. He sighed heavily, aware that Daniels was staring at him.

"Something I can help you with?" Aaron didn't even bother to open his eyes.

"Yeah," Daniels grabbed the chair and dragged it next to the bed, "What was with the frown?"

"What frown?"

"Your frown."

Aaron cracked open an eye to find Daniels right next to him, any closer and he would have had to climb onto the bed. Aaron studied him, he had this straight, solid nose and his lips fell into a natural pout. He'd not shaved for three days and now had a serious amount of blonde stubble, looking rugged. Aaron found this appealing.

"I wasn't frowning."

"Yeah you were."

Daniels' chin rested on the seat back, he was nothing but a nose, eyes, hair and eight fingers clasping the chair, it was like something from the Beano comic book he'd read as a kid. Aaron grinned.

"What are you smiling at?"

"You just look like a naughty child sat like that."

"I am youthful."

"I think it's been a while since you've been a youth." It was Daniels turn to grin. Interactions like these worried Aaron. It was the easiness of them, the friendliness, the fact the he'd not felt fear around Daniels for weeks. They even talked now, mostly after having sex, but sometimes for no reason other than they were interested in what the other was saying. Aaron even found himself laughing at Daniels, found himself agreeing with some of the things he said, even found himself seeking Daniels out during recreational periods. They'd laughed together in the library, Aaron had taken Daniels' carrots away during dinner because Daniels couldn't stand them and Daniels was sharing his cigarettes with Aaron. At times, it was like they were, Aaron didn't dare say it – friends.

"So go on then," Daniels sniffed hard, "what was with the frown earlier?"

Aaron sat up on the bed, "OK, fine. I don't get it. Why hassle Thorpe like that?"

"Ahhh, I see. Well, why not?"

"I don't get why you do it. To all those people, what's the point?"

Daniels cocked his head, "this is cause I used to give you a hard time as well, isn't it?"

Two months ago, Aaron had been Thorpe, it had been him too weary to do his laundry or go to lunch, him humiliated every day. That had all ended, probably because they were fucking every few days and now, Aaron felt this nastiness in his stomach, as if he was betraying his past self by being so friendly with Daniels. He still felt a kinship with all those other victims, even though they now saw Aaron as Daniels' ally. Sometimes, Aaron thought that if he were a real man, he'd tell Daniels to get lost and stick up for everyone and himself. He hadn't, and he didn't see it coming anytime soon, the worrying part was that this was less out of fear and more because he didn't want it to work. A part of him, a part that was growing every day, liked Daniels, like that he was around. He liked how they fucked and he liked Daniels' grin and his flippancy and his fearlessness. He was charismatic and charming, he was like the snake in the garden of Eden, and once those charms turned on you, they were difficult to escape.

"No, it's not just cause you did it to me. I just don't get it."

"Well, I am sorry I did it to you."

"Why do it at all?"

"Genesis." Daniels was an intelligent man, this was obvious. He'd throw obscure information at you and tell you facts you didn't know. His opinions of politics were considered, his insights surprising, and he always had a book with him. Aaron knew Daniels wasn't from a wealthy family, though he was raised in a stable home and had a good basic education. All this made Daniels an extremely complex man who you couldn't put in a box, couldn't write him off one way or another. It confused Aaron. "What?"

"You ever read the bible?"

"No."

Daniels leant forward on his chair, his face inches from Aaron's, he began reciting something that Aaron had never heard before. "The end of all flesh has come before Me; for the earth is filled with violence because of them; and behold, I am about to destroy them with the earth." Aaron stared at him, wide-eyed.

"That's Noah and his ark – from Genesis." He didn't understand. "Can you imagine, Aaron – God is about to flood the earth, no fucker has a chance in hell unless they're on that ark." He moved even closer and took Aaron's arms in his hands, a strange excitement jumped to his eyes. "People across the world running here, there and everywhere, crying out, all of them to be saved, but no one's listening." His voice dropped, "and you know what god's doing?" Aaron shook his head, "God is standing over them, his great arms crossed, just looking down, watching their fear. He is omnipotent, he is everything, he has all power over everyone and everything. Can you imagine, Aaron, can you imagine the rush he must have felt as all those fuckers pissed themselves from fear?" Daniels' hand cupped Aaron's head, their lips were inches apart. "Seeing that fear in Thorpe's and all those others' eyes, what a fucking rush! Watching them quake, watching them almost piss their pants, it gives me a hard on!" A look of rapture cast over Daniels' features, "I get to decide whether a person walks across the yard or hides in their cell, I get to decide whether a person can face going to dinner, I make a person question if they can go on living." He stroked Aaron's bottom lip and hissed, "I am like a fucking god!"

Aaron couldn't respond, he felt paralysed – he was a rabbit in a head light. He'd always known it, always suspected, the word had even been lightly thrown around before, but now it was confirmed, undeniable – Daniels was a psycho.

"You must know what I mean Aaron, you must have hurt someone in the past, just for the kick of it?"

"No." Suddenly, the moment was gone and Daniels broke away, laughing. Aaron hadn't realised how the air had bristled until it was over. Daniels moved around his cell, the earlier intensity from his face now replaced by that constant grin. He moved loosely, shaking out his arms and expelled a heavy breath. "Oh well, never mind." Aaron's eyes followed the other man, finding his unhinged demeanour arousing, it scared Aaron shitless. "Oh, wait," Daniels hit his head in a 'oh silly me' way, "there is one other thing it's like."

"Oh?" Aaron wasn't sure he dared ask.

"It's like getting a blow job." Aaron blinked, this 180 degree flip threw him, the easy flippancy of Daniels words were now a complete contradiction to only moments ago. "It's like those moments when you're thrusting back and forth, holding that mouth in place, setting the rhythm. They're down there, gagging and choking and totally at your mercy." Aaron stood up. "You know what I mean?"

"I guess."

"Ahh, no way. If you only 'guess' then you don't." He walked towards Aaron crowding him back against the wall. "You have had a blow job before, haven't you, Aaron?"

"Yeah…" he trailed off quietly.

"But?"

"But…" Daniels was now pressing his hands against the wall, essentially trapping Aaron in place. His hot breath sent shivers down Aaron. "… It was with a girl."

"I see, and you were too busy worrying about the fact that you weren't into girls?"

"Something like that."

Daniels cocked his head, an idea coming to him. He grinned again, "You know, I don't really do that, I'm more of a receiver than a giver." Aaron knew this from weeks of them fucking. "But," Daniels bit his lower lip, his eyes cast over Aaron's body, he whispered, "I'll do it for you."

Slowly and carefully, Daniels slid to his knees. Aaron hadn't been able to help it, their conversation, the closeness as they'd spoken, the danger to Daniels' words, it had all made him hard and he whimpered out as Daniels' mouth wrapped around his penis.

It hadn't been quite what Daniels had explained, the feelings of power and euphoria never came to Aaron, he never got that rush. It was, however, the hottest experience of his life as his hand guided Daniels' head and his eyes tightly pressed together. During this, whilst his breathing had quickened and his orgasm built, he'd briefly thought back to Daniels' 'victims', those people who he was god to. He wanted to save them, he wanted to save himself, but he wasn't going to. Because this thing that was brewing between them was fucking amazing and it couldn't end.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Thank you, Sylvain (who has worked over-time on this chapter).**

* * *

Paddy watched Chastity grasp the mug in her hands, she took a shaky breath and blinked away her forming tears. "I just," she faltered, her eyes watering up again, "I just hate what everyone's saying."

"I know," Paddy's hand covered hers, "but this is the decision that Aaron's made."

"So what, that's it forever? No one is ever going to know the truth about him being gay?"

"I don't know." They fell silent for a moment and Paddy stared at the wall of Smithy cottage, trying to form the words that would make everything OK. They didn't exist. Aaron had been in prison for four months now, something hard enough to deal with without Jackson Walsh working in the village, reminding everyone of what had happened. Not that this was really his fault, he'd needed the work and Paddy would never expect him to turn it down just to protect everyone's sensibilities. But without question, Jackson's presence kept those events in the forefront of everyone's mind. It reminded them of Aaron's attack and the reason he is away from the village. It reminded them of his actions, of the seeming mindlessness of them, of how homophobic they were.

"You know, I almost told them all the truth." Paddy's eyes widened at Chastity's confession. "You should have seen them all today, Paddy, in the café, all of them standing around Jackson, giving their heartfelt condolences. They were all there, feeling sorry for Jackson and hating Aaron, I couldn't bear it and just ran out."

"What did Jackson do?"

A humourless laugh escaped Chastity, "he at least had the decency to look apologetic. I wanted to scream at him to leave the village."

"Chas…"

"Yeah, I know. None of this is his fault. It doesn't stop me from wanting to scream at him every time I see him."

Paddy leant forward, "but you're not going to, are you?" This was said as a warning.

"No. It's just, in two months Aaron's going to be free and he's only just doing better now, you know?" Paddy did know, he'd noticed it on his visits, noticed how the tension in Aaron's frame––seen in the first months––, had loosened. He'd seen how he'd started smiling more and was less weary as they spoke. No one was sure of the reason for the change, though they all welcomed it, all felt that they could relax a little and stop fearing that one day there would be a phone call from the police, saying Aaron had killed himself.

Chastity continued, "I just don't want for Aaron to come out of prison and have to deal with all the hostility from everyone, for them to judge him."

"Aaron is the only one who can stop that," Paddy caught her eye, "please, Chas, please, don't do anything stupid. If you tell anyone and the truth comes out before he's ready – well, we just don't know if he'll cope."

Chastity nodded, fresh tears springing to her eyes. Her gaze turned to the window, "I won't tell anyone."

* * *

Numbness seeped into Aaron, preventing him from feeling a sense of place, making him believe his feet were not touching the ground. And yet, at the same time, he was terribly heavy. The numbness had started at his fist from that one impact as it landed against the brick wall below Jackson's flat. He'd felt pain, overwhelming pain and then that had subsided to reveal nothing. Now, at 9 a.m., Aaron did what he always did in these circumstances––he hid. He sat in his bedroom in Smithy cottage, ignoring that he'd been due at work an hour ago, staring at his blank walls. Those walls were now so bare after he'd pulled down the posters of his naked girls on that first day of freedom, determined to be who he was from this point on. He'd been out of prison for six weeks now, still yet to replace the posters and wasn't managing to be who he was very well. Aaron shook his head. He wasn't sure of the point anyway––why be who you are if it causes you pain? He was tired of how repetitive the hurt was, tired of ploughing on. Surely he was too young to feel so miserable, too young to get so wounded. He couldn't keep doing it, couldn't allow himself to feel, to let people in, only for them to leave him bereft.

Aaron looked down at his knuckles, he flexed his hand and watched fresh blood glisten beneath the flakes of skin. He'd been so upset by Jackson's rejection this morning, his tears had been all ready to bubble up and the only way to prevent them was to punch that wall. Now he was nothing, just this waif struggling along. He was back to square one.

He was so, so tired of it all, tired of hoping, of feeling safe. He was tired of losing those he cared about. These last few months had taught him that nothing was sure, that nothing was safe and so why should he have believed that with Jackson it would be any different? Happiness was like quick sand, love fleeting. A lump rose to his throat at everything he had lost.

Unsteadily, Aaron rose from his bed and made his way over to his chest of drawers. He felt tentative as he opened the top drawer and anxious as he moved his socks, pausing when he came to the folded paper carefully tucked away. His heartbeat thudded loudly. Over the weeks, he'd tried not to look at this, tried to keep it out of sight as he struggled daily not to grasp that paper in his hands and cry himself to sleep.

There were two small sheets: the first held the address of Boundary Close and Aaron quickly moved it beneath the second. The words on this one were neatly scrawled, written carefully. The handwriting was neat and considered and seemingly a contradiction of the person who wrote the words. But Aaron knew him, knew it wasn't such a big contrast. He had gotten beneath his skin, had become a part of him, and had seen that for every evil thing, there was also a tiny speck of good.

There weren't many words, quite simply, it said: 'I'm so sorry for everything, Aaron. I do love you.'

Aaron was relieved at his numbness, relieved that it stopped him from crying, stopped him from reacting. He feared otherwise he wouldn't be able to stop. He missed the man who wrote this, wanted him desperately to be around just as much as he was glad he was dead. He bit down on his lip, the pain barely registering. This was meant to be the end, Aaron's release was meant to mark the start of his life, of putting everything behind him, of forgetting about that man, who for six months had been his entire world. And that's what last night had felt like, with Jackson, it felt like he was writing a future not determined by his past. It felt good, amazing and he couldn't remember a point in his life where he had ever really felt so alive.

To have Jackson reject him this morning was almost too much.

* * *

Haines had a tiny scar just above his top lip, Aaron had never noticed this before, and he was only seeing it now as the other man seriously leant into his personal space.

"Look, can you just talk to Daniels for me?"

Aaron glanced around to see if they were being noticed. Not that they seemed to be doing anything dodgy, just talking besides the stair rail––still, they didn't want to be overheard by any guards looking to bust inmates for selling contraband.

"Why can't you talk to him yourself?"

"I've tried." Haines hissed. He had a habit of getting angry quickly, his responses often spiky, and quick to become defensive even when they lacked reason. "Look man, just a small bottle of vodka. That's all I want." Aaron frowned. In prison, there were many people like this, those struggling with addiction. For most, it was drugs as they were easier to get hold of, but for some it was alcohol––like for Haines. Haines clearly hadn't had a drink in a while and was now sweating profusely. This is where Daniels profited. He smuggled in alcohol and cigarettes and sometimes mobile phones and even the occasional weapon.

"He ain't gonna listen to me." A hand moved to block Aaron as he tried to move away. Aaron's brows narrowed; if Haines was going start something, then he was ready.

There was something distasteful about Haines that reached far beyond his addiction. He had an arrangement with Daniels––he paid with sexual favours. That was what Aaron had witnessed the day he'd stormed into the launderette to find Haines' mouth around Daniels' penis––it had been an exchange of goods, payment received. The idea sickened Aaron and turned his stomach. Imagine prostituting yourself for 35 centilitres of vodka? Daniels thought it was hilarious, he ridiculed Haines every time they made a transaction and humiliated him in front of other inmates, but Haines was beyond having any dignity. Aaron looked with contempt at the clammy skin of the man once again leaning into his space.

"You've gotta help me." That scar trembled and a drop of sweat ran down Haines' forehead.

"How can I help?"

"You've got to talk to him, I can't get it from anyone else. I've got no way to pay." Aaron scoffed. What on earth could he say? Daniels did whatever he wanted, he always did. "Look, I'm sorry, but I don't see what I can do." The hand blocking his way, now tightened around Aaron's arm. Haines was no match for him, they were the same height, same build and Aaron wasn't suffering from withdrawal.

"Get your hand off me."

Haines bared his teeth, "This is all your fault anyway. We had a good set up until you came along."

"What?"

"A couple of blow jobs a week, a few fucks here and there. But for some reason, he ain't up for it anymore. For some reason, can't think what that is, can you?"

He stared at Haines, looked at him wide-eyed. "You and him have stopped?"

"Yeah."

Aaron thought their arrangement was continuing, thought that all those guys Daniels fucked instead of taking money from was still on-going. Haines released Aaron's arm. "You tell me, Livesy, why has Daniels stopped taking payment? It couldn't be because he's getting it from somewhere else, could it? Couldn't be that maybe he's got a nice new set-up with someone?"

Unease rocked Aaron. No, that wasn't what was happening, that wasn't it. Yeah, so they fucked but it wasn't for alcohol or cigarettes. They just fucked because they wanted to; no one got anything out of it but the sex.

Aaron felt himself go cold.

"I think the reason Daniels ain't interested might just be because he'd now got it on tap." A sneer curled Haines' lip, causing his scar to bulge. "What's the point of fucking all those other guys where he might get caught when he can do it after dark in his cell, in a nice comfy bed?"

"Shut up!"

"You think you're so much better than me, I know, I see how you look at me. But you're nothing but a whore, Livesy!"

Aaron reacted, grabbing the front of Haines' shirt, and bringing his face closer, "shut the fuck up!"

Haines laughed. This wasn't happening, they just fucked and fooled around and talked. He didn't get anything in return, there was no arrangement. He thought back over the last few weeks. Actually, there were cigarettes and there was alcohol but he'd never asked for them directly, an agreement was never, ever openly discussed. Nausea overwhelmed Aaron, was he just like Haines? Was he whoring himself to that man? Aaron shoved Haines hard and stormed off.

He needed to find Daniels, to have it out, to put an end to this. A sickly feeling crawled over his skin. He'd done it, here in prison, where he'd gone to avoid the part of himself that he hated, only to do it and fall completely into the role, not only that but to plummet deeper, to become a whore––a gay whore!

Daniels was found reading a magazine in their cell.

"I want to talk to you." Adrenalin now shook his frame. Daniels casually raised his head, his eyes widened when he noticed Aaron's state.

"What's up?" he threw the magazine on the bed.

"You're not fucking Haines anymore."

"It's been a while."

"Or anyone else."

"What's your point?"

Aaron's question came out shakily, "why not?"

The confusion on Daniels' face was clear. He smiled, "I guess I've got better things to _do_ with my time than fuck nomads."

"Better things to _do_ with your time?"

"Yeah and you can read the subtext in that sentence." Daniels folded his arms, "Look, Aaron, what is this about?"

"So, it's true then, you're not doing them cause you're doing me?"

"Yeah, what of it?" He looked utterly irritated by this conversation.

Aaron advanced, he towered over the seated Daniels and stabbed a finger into his chest. "I'm not like Haines," he gritted his teeth, "I'm not some needy whore looking for his next fix!"

This made Daniels stand up, his larger frame causing Aaron to step back. "I never said you were."

"But you give me cigarettes and you give me alcohol and I let you fuck me up the arse!" Daniels got in his face, his large hand pushed Aaron until he met the wall. He hissed loudly, "listen, mate. If I fucked you for cigarettes, you'd soon know about it. Now, I don't know what your problem is but you need to stop acting like a stupid little queer!"

Aaron lunged at Daniels, "Don't call me a queer!" His fist flew and was easily caught, he used all his strength but it was futile. Daniels' hand grasped Aaron's neck, immobilising him. "You need to calm down." His hands tightened and Aaron clawed at them to be released. He gasped as he was let go.

"I don't know who put all these stupid ideas in your head!"

"Haines said!"

"Haines? You're listening to the words of that cocksucker?"

Aaron's shaking hadn't subsided; his neck hurt. "I don't know."

"Listen to me." Daniels brought his hands to rest on Aaron's shoulders, their eyes locked. "I'm not fucking you for any reason other than I want to." He didn't want to hear this. He wanted to get as far away as possible from Haines and Daniels. He needed to leave behind him the ugly thing he had become. Daniels pushed him back against the wall. "Where are you going?"

"Anywhere!"

But Daniels was having none of it. He clasped Aaron's head between his large hands and brought their faces closer together. Lips hit Aaron's and he was stunned into submission by Daniels' kiss, its dominance quickly descending into something tenderer. They'd never kissed before, not once.

It lasted for a lifetime. He felt that rough stubble prickling his lips, and that tongue seeking his own. He resisted for seconds before returning the kiss and in the end didn't want it to stop.

Aaron rubbed at his neck when they pulled apart. Daniels brought his fingers up to stroke where he'd earlier grasped. "You've got a mark."

"I'll be alright."

Later that day, Haines was found, beaten black and blue. He'd been stabbed in the stomach and bled out before anyone found him and now lay in the prison mortuary. It was the most horrific thing that had happened since Aaron's arrival and everyone was on immediate lockdown.

When Aaron mentioned it to Daniels, he'd merely shrugged. He'd said, "I guess he just upset the wrong person."

* * *

**Hi everyone. Thank you for continuing to read and review my story. I'm loving all the demands for updates.**

**I am currently crazy busy with a business venture and I definitely won't be able to update as frequently as I was. That doesn't mean it will be months between posts-more likely a couple of weeks. This story will get finished, I know how frustrating it is to get into a fanfic only for the story to discontinue. **

**Thank you.**


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**OK, so it's been four weeks since my last update! I hope it was worth the wait.**

**Thanks once again to Sylvain, who is trying to help me get through my sudden semicolon addiction :)**

* * *

Soft lips gently parted as they took another barely noticeable breath. Stubble decorated skin and eyes momentarily fluttered before calming. Jackson merely watched.

Last night had been the most amazing and intense experience of his life. He'd been lit up by the high of the evening and fuelled by alcohol, and all those things had collided against all sense, rendering it useless. Now, in the morning, he found reality and as wonderful as he had felt in those first few moments of waking, history now grounded him. What had he done?

Aaron sniffed softly in his sleep, stilling Jackson.

He knew it was his own fault; he'd been the one to reach over to the younger man, to close the gap between their lips, to whispers words of how he wanted them to be together. And he had, he'd never wanted anything more in his life as their mouths connected and hands had roamed. They'd bounced of walls and fumbled with clothes and the entire event had been glorious. But it shouldn't have happened; their shared history was too intense to quickly forget. Aaron had punched Jackson, right in the pub, in full view of everyone. He'd lashed out, utterly humiliating Jackson. You don't return to the person who attacked you.

Aaron stirred slightly and the duvet slipped from his shoulder, exposing skin and a dusting of barely visible hair on his chest. He'd kissed every inch of that skin last night, discovered scars and freckles and sensitive spots. His hands had slid down Aaron's right side, finding him ticklish. He'd kissed broken skin on the mechanics rough hands and felt the weight of Aaron's erect penis. He felt like he'd mapped every inch of the other man, cataloguing him for future reference. But last night had to be it.

Quietly and slowly as to not wake Aaron, Jackson climbed out of bed and reached for his robe. He paused as his reflection caught in the mirror. Gingerly touching his neck, he noticed the discolouration, the slight pink from someone's attention. Jackson looked back at Aaron, their previous evening permeating his memories. _Last night had to be it._

He switched on the kettle in the kitchen and pulled out a single mug, momentarily considering grabbing two. That was what he really wanted, to be making two coffees this morning, to be taking them back to the bedroom and waking Aaron with a kiss. He made only one and took a seat on the couch, noticing his mobile phone on the coffee table, abandoned in the haste of the previous evening. There was a message from his friend, Sol, who had been with them last night. The message read: YOU SLEPT WITH HIM DIDN'T YOU. It wasn't a question and Jackson swallowed hard.

They'd all known it was going to happen, even he who had denied it to anyone willing to listen. Why had he been so stupid, how did he think that this would play out? Why didn't he leave when his friend demanded? He was messing everything up, for him and Aaron.

There couldn't possibly be a future for the two of them. He'd been assaulted by Aaron, that wasn't something that you forgot, something that you shrugged your shoulders at and moved on from. He couldn't do it, wouldn't be a part of a relationship where violence simmered beneath the surface, where fists blindly fell after pure frightened instinct. It was one thing to move forward as friends but nothing more could possibly happen. Jackson could now see how deluded he was to even think he could manage that, just be friends with the man who he desired more than anyone else! Just be friends with the man whose violence hadn't been enough to detour his interest!

He heard his name softly called from the bedroom and froze. He wasn't ready for this, didn't know how to handle it. How do you tell someone that it was a one-time thing? How do you tell him when you are not even sure it's what you want?

"Jackson?" His name sounded again and Jackson turned reluctantly. "Morning." Jackson's breath held as he stared at Aaron's topless form. Last night, he'd be curled around that chest, he'd sucked on willing nipples. Jackson didn't respond.

Uneasy hands were shoved deep inside jean pockets, "You alright?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Good."

"Good." And that was it, Jackson couldn't look at Aaron for a moment longer. His will was crumbling, his resolve dissolving. "Look, Aaron, I know I said I would drive you back to the village, but I've got to pick up some stuff." He got up and walked over to the kitchen. "It might be best if you get the bus." He wasn't really looking at Aaron.

There was a pause. "OK." And another one, "I'll see you around then?"

"Yeah."

He didn't miss the obvious confusion on Aaron's face, didn't miss the hurried way he'd thrown on the rest of his clothes and the way he'd not said another word as he'd left. Jackson also didn't miss how sick this left him feeling, how wrong and completely out of order he was for treating Aaron this way.

This wasn't right. Jackson didn't behave this way, he faced a situation, he dealt with things, even heart-wrenching decisions like this. He couldn't do this, couldn't let Aaron walk away without an explanation. He jumped up and threw on his boots, not bothering to tie the laces

Outside was blistering cold and the pavements were beginning to fill with people on their way to work. He looked to the direction that Aaron would have headed but didn't see the younger lad. He sighed heavily, his breath coming out as a puff of air, and he realised that he was standing outside in his robe, attracting curious glances. Pulling the cotton tightly around him, he leant against the wall.

He needed to get back to Emmerdale, Aaron deserved an explanation.

However hard it would be.

* * *

A hand lightly touched Aaron's shoulder, distracting him from the TV set. Not that he minded much, the program wasn't even any good and only served to absorb him and break up the boring relentlessness of prison life. There were fifteen of them sat around the front of the screen, the program being some rubbish middle-of-the-afternoon crap that he wouldn't have bothered with had he not been inside. Every now and again, a prisoner would make a comment or a crass suggestion about the women currently wandering around the on-screen home, trying to convince a young couple she was with to buy. Other inmates shushed them.

Aaron looked up to find the hand belonged to Daniels. He watched the older man leisurely retreat from the room, stopping at the door to see if he was being followed. Once in the main rec room, Aaron slumped down onto a chair. Across the table sat Daniels, with a massive grin on his face, as always, but there was something in it that made Aaron think he was being laughed at. He frowned, "What?"

"Can't you watch anything interesting on TV, like some French Art House?"

Aaron scoffed, "Firstly, I don't know what that is-"

"Me neither."

"-And secondly, we're not allowed to watch anything else."

"Well, then, may I recommend that you don't watch anything?"

Aaron rolled his eyes, "Look, Thomas, it's that or read a book and I can't read any more books. I'm sick of books. I didn't realise I even knew how to read until I got sent down."

Daniels grinned again and Aaron felt his ankle bumped by Daniels' foot. They sat, relaxed in their chairs, silently looking at each other until Aaron leant forward. "So, how was Louise?"

"She was good. The stupid bitch seems to have finally started behaving herself and is regularly coming to visit me again." Aaron smiled. He knew this had been doing Daniels' head in, not seeing his wife or kids. He was openly angry and less controlled on the subject of his family and this was the one thing that got under the skin of the normally unflappable man. He obviously loved Louise very much which, of course, served to make his own relationship with Daniels completely bizarre. Aaron got it, though, he was merely filling the void that his wife left. There was obviously an emotional need in Daniels that mindless fucking didn't fill. This was why he'd allowed Aaron to get closer, to see a gentler side. They'd come close to discussing it one day when Daniels admitted that he'd never fucked a man before that he also didn't mind being around. That usually he allowed 'friendships' to form with inmates he wasn't sleeping with, not that he'd actually called them 'friends'. He'd said that if he and Aaron weren't sharing a cell, then he would never have gotten to know him.

Maybe Aaron should have been annoyed, annoyed that he was being used, annoyed that Daniels scuttled off to see the missus and then bent him over and fucked him up the arse. But then, wasn't he using Daniels back? Wasn't he just clinging to that tiny thing that made him feel a little more alive and free and human? It made Aaron chuckle whenever he considered the idea. Thomas Daniels, a man who at times couldn't behave less human, who was utterly devoid of empathy and whose sociopathic way were monstrous—made him feel human!

The whole thing didn't make sense, especially how Aaron could rationalize what was happening between them on one hand and be overwhelmingly jealous on the other. In the end, Aaron was glad that they had never defined what was going on. Being honest and up-front wasn't one of his strong points, which of course, was one of the reasons he was inside, and he was glad to not have to face up to it now.

"Louise has got new eyebrows."

"What?" he wasn't sure he heard that right.

"Yeah, apparently, everyone is doing it now."

"So what does that mean?"

"They're tattooed on."

Aaron sat up straight, "What, so they're there forever?"

"Yep."

He'd seen the woman a few times, he'd sat trying to concentrate on what his mum was saying whilst watching Daniels hold her hand. She was always well done up, her heels to her armpits and her skirt masquerading as a belt.

"That's just weird."

"Yeah." Daniels had a small, soft smile on his lips. The smile was gentler than the one he usually used, something he reserved for his wife. "Whatever beauty phase is going on at the moment, you can guarantee Louise will be doing it. Sunbeds, hair extensions, arm hair waxing – she pays a fortune for it all."

The scrunch of Aaron's nose got Daniels attention. "What, you don't like women a little over done?"

"I don't like women, remember."

"But you said you've been with some, come on, what were they like?"

Aaron tilted his head. There were only two, Victoria and Holly, two girls that whilst caring about their looks, didn't let it rule their lives. "They were a bit more natural."

"Rough, were they!"

"No."

Daniels chuckled, "I like my girls a little more slutty. The trashier, the better!" he laughed loudly and Aaron joined in.

"Louise will be happy to hear that." A slight shadow fell over the table. Aaron looked up to see Stalk's large, round face smirking down at them.

Instantly, Daniels sat straight in his chair. "Well, Thomas? Does your Louise know that you think she's a slut?" On the other side of the room, Aaron spied a guard watching them, no doubt waiting for the inevitable eruption. Almost every interaction ended with one or both in isolation and Aaron tensed, really not wanting it to happen again. He tapped his foot against Daniels' ankle; the other man flashed him a look in response and relaxed. "You tell her what you like."

"Really?"

"Really."

There was something repugnant about Stalk. From his large, round head with his features squashed in the centre of his face to the way he always dressed smartly, as if he was a somebody. All together, it added up to someone that Aaron could barely stand to be around.

Stalk leant his arms on the table. "So, what do you think Louise would say if," he glanced at Aaron and smiled, revealing a gap between his front teeth, "if she could see you now?"

Daniels squared his shoulders and opened his mouth, ready to explode, but then the guard was at Stalk's side and the tension dissolved into a false, easy atmosphere. "Haven't you got somewhere to be, Stalk?" Aaron watched Stalk nod his head to Daniels and walk away.

Once inside their cell, Daniels seethed, "That fucking cock." He stalked the room backwards and forwards. Aaron didn't react as Daniels punched a wall. He folded his arms as the other man examined the damage to his fist. "He wants her to himself, you see." The pacing returned, "he's always wanted her, always hated the fact the she married me and not him! Fucking dick."

Daniels looked over to Aaron, "We've got to be careful, from now on. OK?"

"OK."


	19. Chapter Eighteen

The door was held open for him and Jackson walked through, following closely behind Declan. Upon entering the Woolpack, he dropped his head and sighed. The person he wanted to see least of all—Chastity—was sitting at a table by the side of the room, joined by other people. Jackson walked straight to the bar, keen to remain unseen as his boss ordered a couple of pints, but he could tell by the immediate rise of Aaron's mother's voice that he'd been spotted. Damn.

His entrance hadn't gone unnoticed by a few of the villagers either. An elderly lady called Betty, who had already stuck her nose in, tipped her sherry towards him and another woman, who'd explained that she had a gay soon (and loved the gays)—Valerie he believed her name was—was sitting at the bar, openly watching him. He felt like he was in a fish bowl.

It was 7 p.m., and after working late, Declan had collared him to go for a pint. He hadn't wanted to but, you don't say no to the man who could potentially give you your next job. So here he was, on a summer's evening, in Aaron's local. There was something about it that didn't feel right. It was one thing to go at lunch time, the options being either the pub or the café, but something entirely different to actively socialise here. It was almost like he was trying to absorb himself into Aaron's world—at least that was what he feared everyone would think. Because, in all honesty, after everything that happened, what were the odds of him now getting offered work in the village? Yes, he knew that he'd only got the job because Declan had seen his number on the side of Jackson's van whilst he was tentatively seeing Aaron, but still, it looked suspicious.

Jackson smiled awkwardly at the villagers now openly staring at him and led the way to the furthest table from Chastity. Declan gave him a reassuring smile. His boss had not been in the village long when the assault took place, thus it went largely over his head. It was only since hiring him that he had found out the truth and had been quick to check Jackson was OK to work. Jackson had been positive that past events would not get in the way. His positiveness shrank every day.

"So, do you think the plumbing will be ready to install the bathtub next week?" He hadn't really thought about which seat to take, dropping down onto the chair facing Aaron's family. It was a massive mistake, because he could now clearly see them talking about him.

"Jackson?"

"Sorry," he dragged his eyes from the five of them. Three he knew, Chastity, Paddy and Cain. He didn't know the others—a large lady and a man with a black beard, who he'd seen at the court case. "Yeah, that won't be a problem, as long as the bathtub arrives on time."

"Great, I'm sick of having to shower at Home Farm."

Chastity was whispering heatedly and the others were trying to calm her down. Jackson started taking bigger sips of his drink than normally considered appropriate, in the hopes to end this quicker. "Jackson, slow down." His eyes fell on Declan.

"You have just as much right to be here as she does. Just ignore her, she's just upset about her son." This was not up there on this list of things Jackson wanted to talk about with his boss. They should have been chatting about deadlines and tiling and best of all, bonuses, not his personal life. He was embarrassed that his behaviour was so obvious.

"If you finish yours before I finish mine, then you will just have to sit there until I finish. I'm the boss and you have to do as I say." Jackson smiled mildly. That smile dropped when Valerie twirled around on her bar stool, openly grinning at Jackson. She had this insincere, motherly concern to her expression, almost like she thought him a poor little lamb. It caused him to sink in his chair. "He's right, love." She had a thick Yorkshire accent. "As I've already told you, my son's gay and he lived here for years, you've got nothing to worry about here. Gays are welcome in the village and we'd rather you than _him_."

Jackson had never been very good at being rude, at the most he could manage a false cheer and a hurried exit. Declan eyed his pity. This Valerie woman slid off her chair, her leather skirt pulling tight across her legs as she sauntered over to them. How had this woman heard them? They'd been talking quietly. "He's a vile thug, that Aaron. You've got nothing to be scared of."

The last thing he needed was for her to raise her voice during that comment and then, even worse, for Chastity Dingle to rise from her chair, eyes brimming with tears and a stance like she was barely holding herself back. "You wanna keep out of things you know nothing about!"

Oh shit.

"Really, I know nothing, huh? Nothing about that homophobic little psychopath you call a son?"

Valerie was warned by the women behind the bar and Paddy and Cain tried to get Chastity to calm down. Jackson's undefined plea wasn't heard. "Maybe it's time to go?" He couldn't agree with Declan more and they both rose to leave.

"Oh no you don't." Valerie's arms splayed dramatically as she addressed the entire pub. "What does this say about us, if we're willing to let this poor boy be driven out? It makes us no better. He is a victim here, he deserves our help." It really was quite a performance. She turned to Chastity, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

"And you need to shut your mouth!"

"Or what, are you gonna get your prison-serving, gay-basher of a son on me?" This was absurd, Jackson had never seen anything like it. He wasn't used to dramatic stand-offs, in fact, he'd spent his life avoiding them. Ok, so this crazy bitch of a woman was probably right, but he'd never felt more uncomfortable in his life—making a speedy exit a more desirable option even though he should really make a stand. He grabbed his coat, readying to pull it on. By now, tears openly ran down Chastity's cheeks and Jackson couldn't help but feel for her, she was after all only looking out for her son. The other patrons began throwing their two pennies in. That woman, Betty, was shouting things in-between taking sips of her sherry, and then an large, elderly man spoke up, a voice of calm amongst the histrionics. His large hand had rested on his walking stick as he'd leant forward, his soft words seemed to create a break in the commotion. He'd said, "Valerie's right, we cannot condone Aaron's behaviour by allowing this young lad to walk out. What Aaron did was truly terrible, this is a nice village, a safe place, and this shouldn't be swept beneath the carpet."

Jackson paused, mid-swing as he was trying to get his second arm into his sleeve. He just stood there, his coat half-on and staring at Chastity. He could tell this man's words had devastated her and knew what she was about to do before she'd even opened her mouth.

"You think Aaron's a thug, do you?" her voice was small. "A mindless thug who goes around beating people up?"

No one answered. Paddy said her name, warningly. "No, Paddy, no." Her eyes were red raw, her entire frame shook, "I can't do it anymore, I can't let them say what they're saying." She turned to Valerie and everyone else and Jackson just wanted to run away. "Aaron didn't hit him because he's gay."

"Chastity, shut up." Cain was ignored.

"Aaron hit him, because…" Jackson felt like a rabbit in the headlights, his coat remained hanging at his side, "because Aaron is… because _Aaron_ is gay."

He'd never liked drama, never studied it at school and never wanted to be the centre of attention. All eyes turned towards him, Jackson swallowed hard.

The room went silent.

"Because he's gay," her finger pointed towards him, "and because _they_ were dating and because my son couldn't cope and got scared."

Chastity's words came out thickly through her tears, "I'm not saying what he did was OK, but he is not a thug. _He's not a thug!_"

For one terrible moment, he thought that the audience was going to break into a question and answer session but then a hand was felt on his shoulder and Declan was pulling him towards the exit. The last thing Jackson heard was Chastity, her tearful wails distorting her words. She was saying, "what have I done, what have I done?"

* * *

His boots hitting the tiled flooring normally made a really loud sound, attracting attention. Aaron hated attention and had since learnt to step lighter. Not that it mattered, in that moment he couldn't hear anything or feel, or see much except what his tunnel vision was allowing. He knew his walking was sluggish and more halting, he knew he was looking around the rec room of the prison in a slow motion. He could see some of the inmates glancing up at him as he entered through the gate. His footsteps must have been noisy, he clearly wasn't doing a good job of treading lightly—he'd obviously forgotten how.

A spectacled man looked at him strangely, and then an elderly man, and then his eyes had landed on Bennett. Bennett smiled at him and then stopped for some reason and Aaron remembered how he'd caught Daniels and Bennett coupling in the library. He remembered how he'd stared, opened-mouthed, full of lust, and then just left. Prison was meant to be the life that removed him from his sexuality, not force him head first into confronting it. Why had he come, why had he thought the solution was to be locked away?

Aaron continued towards his cell, or maybe he wasn't, maybe he was standing still. He didn't know, he was numb.

A younger lad nudged another man to get his attention and the second called out, "you OK, Livesy?" Aaron couldn't respond, he just kept going. There were men everywhere, stretch out to the horizon. Most he knew by name, a few only by face. What would everyone at home be thinking now? That he had wanted to go to prison—every gay man's dream to go to prison, wasn't it?"

Simmons was looking up at him from a book. His brown face, marred by many fights, looked at him confused. Simmons had grabbed his head all those months ago and pretended to fuck his face. Why had he done that? Had he seen something in Aaron, some innate gayness? Would everyone in the village be seeing that now?

He was near his cell, he just wanted to curl up, to lay on his side. He had a muted desire to hurt himself. He carried on walking.

That usual smile was no-where to be found on Daniels' face, instead he was frowning as he watched Aaron walk past. Once inside his cell, Aaron just wanted to lie down. Panic was starting to break through the numbness and he could fell the beginnings of sickness swelling in his stomach.

"Aaron?" Daniels' shadow fell across the bed. Aaron squeezed his eyes shut. A large hand rocked him. "What's up with you? Why do you look all weird?" He was weird, and now everyone knew. He was weird and disgusting and abnormal and everything he'd tried to contain had been spilt out onto the four corners of the village. He hated his mother.

"Are you sick?"

"Leave me alone."

Daniels rocked him harder. "Come on, turn over."

He wanted to be left alone, to shrivel up and die. They all knew, the real world knew. He'd imagined that this six-month exploration of his sexuality could be hidden, that what he and Daniels did together, to be just a blip. No one real had to know. Daniels had his wife and Aaron could be released and concentrate his efforts into being straight. She'd ruined his plans.

"Aaron," Daniels pushed again. "Aaron."

The numbness broke. He swung onto his feet and shoved Daniels hard, "don't fucking touch me, Tom!"

"Whoa!" Daniels' hands raised and his smile grew broad, "so you're not sick then?"

"Fuck off!" He couldn't be near Daniels, the man who had brought too much out of him, who he'd laughed and joked with and who he had laid with after sex. Aaron marched from their cell, leaving Daniels, relieved that he wasn't being followed. He headed to the yard and sank down onto the concrete court. There was a basketball game in play and inmates noisily shouted to one another, but it wasn't enough to drown out Aaron's thoughts.

How could she do this to him? She hadn't said a word before his court case. Why did it have to all come out now? Aaron felt himself shake.

He had not expected it, had no idea of the news that his Mother and Paddy would break to him during visiting hours. She'd been quiet and he'd known there was something strange going on by the half-smile they'd flashed him and the large breath Paddy had taken. "What's going on?"

They'd shared a look. "Just tell me."

"Aaron, everyone knows." Paddy's fingers had clung to the table.

"Knows what?"

"About you." He'd barely heard the rest, barely heard them explain that Jackson had, in fact, been working in the village for over two months, something he had no idea of. He'd not heard them explain how the villagers were so against him and how upsetting it had been to hear what they were saying. He couldn't digest the large scene that they tried to play down as she'd revealed his big secret. Internally, Aaron had shut down. He'd just sat there, rubbing at his head, repeating 'no, no, no,' over and over again until he felt his mother's hand on his arm and then he'd exploded. "You stupid bitch!"

He'd jump up. He wanted to scream and cry and hit things and throw up. "Aaron, please, sit down." He couldn't. His insides were jumbled, his nerves frayed. What was he going to do now? How was he going to cope? How was his release date going to be day zero?

He'd walked away then, back through the gates and to his cell, which was how he found himself out on the court, sitting on the floor and knees drawn up. It was early Autumn, by now the leaves would be beginning to turn. Aaron hadn't seen a leaf since he'd arrived. He'd not seen a sheep growing its fur for the winter or the sun low over the Yorkshire hills. Before his sentence, Aaron hadn't realised what a perfect place he'd been living in. He missed it suddenly, but now wasn't sure if he could ever go back. A shadow fell across him.

"You still being weird?" Aaron looked up, it was Daniels. "I'm going to sit down now. If you attack me then I'll punch you in the face, got it?" The silence was taken as permission. "So, why are you being weird?" Aaron barely shook his head.

"Come on, tell daddy Thomas." A humourless snort broke through Aaron's despair and he couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of it all. 'Daddy Thomas'. He could be Aaron's dad, he was old enough. There was 17 years between them. How ridiculous was he, getting involved with an older man, how could he do it? He wasn't meant to be gay, he wasn't meant to allow that part of him to come out. Younger guy with older man—wasn't that some kind of cliché? Virgin gets fucked up the arse in prison—wasn't that another?" Aaron rested his head in his hand.

"I don't care what's up with you, just as long as it doesn't affect your ability to perform."

No chance, never again. It wasn't going to happen. "I'm not fucking you anymore."

"Why?"

"Just cause." Aaron couldn't look him in the face. "I've had enough."

"No, you ain't." Daniels nudged him, "you love the cock!"

"Not anymore." And then Aaron felt it, felt the tears gather and his vision blurred. Daniels eyes widened. 'Oh god, why are you crying? You really are a little queer."

"Fuck off!"

"I'm only joking. Stop crying, I don't like having to show kindness." Aaron couldn't stop, he felt the hot, salty liquid trail his cheeks. "What's up with you?"

He remained silent.

"What the fuck is up with you?"

He didn't want to say, didn't want to discuss this. He sniffed hard, trying to gain composure, it didn't work and eventually he spoke. "My mum told everyone that I'm gay."

"What, that's it?" Aaron glared at him, he wanted to punch the other man. "Didn't everyone already know?"

"A few."

"So what's the big deal?"

Of course he wouldn't understand, how could Aaron imagine even for a second it would be any other way. "Just forget it."

"No, you don't." Daniels' hands grabbed his arm, preventing him from getting up. "Just get on with it and tell me what's up."

He looked at Daniels, looked at the way his eyes slightly wrinkled in concentration and how his lips pursed together. He wanted to listen, there was even concern there, hidden beneath the flippancy of Daniels' words. Aaron let out a single sob and uncoiled, his tension draining. The brick wall took his full weight and he felt Daniels' side pressed against his, he felt so warm.

"I'm in prison for assaulting a homosexual man." This part was already known by a lot of the prisoners, something they found hilarious considering they all knew the nature of his and Daniels' relationship. Not that any specific comments were said, they wouldn't dare with Daniels and it meant that Aaron could still pretend his sexuality was hidden. "The courts thought I hit him because he was gay. They didn't know that we had actually started dating and I really like him and that I did it because I panicked and thought he was going to reveal my secret."

"So, it was still a secret when you got sentenced?"

"Only four people in the real world knew."

Daniels looked at him incredulously, "You're seriously telling me you're inside because you don't want people to know you're gay?"

"Yep."

"But you let me fuck you?" Yeah, he did and most of the time wished he'd never allowed Daniels to come near him. Next to him, Daniels shifted. He groaned lightly as he repositioned himself on the hard concrete floor. "I'm not going to stop and you don't want me to anyway, no matter how much you tell yourself otherwise."

"I just," Aaron pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. He still felt like he was going to cry. "I just can't be gay, I don't want to be gay. I don't want to deal with what people will say to me, they'll say stuff about me."

"Fuck 'em. You see me giving a shit about what people think?"

"Yeah, but that's different, you're a psycho." His comment hadn't intended to be funny but suddenly Daniels was laughing and Aaron couldn't stop his own smile. "There ain't many people that could get away with calling me a psycho, you know." Daniels nudged his side. "Come on, come back inside. The floor is really hard and I'm too old to be sitting on it.

Go back with Daniels? Go back to his cell and allow himself to be comforted by another man, a man who he regularly had sex with, a_ man_. Why couldn't Aaron just keep away? Why hadn't he stopped himself from kissing Adam all those months ago? Why had he entered Bar West for the first time, why, when that was the worst thing he could have done? Why had he allowed Jackson Walsh to kiss him?

Daniels rose to his feet, "You gonna come back with me?"

He didn't want to be gay, he couldn't be gay.

Shakily, he stood up and Daniels smiled at him. It wasn't snide or calculating as usual, it was natural and caring and Aaron couldn't help but trust it. He opened up once inside the protectiveness of his cell, when they were all alone and it felt as if they were the only to people in the world. In there, on his bunk, he spoke of Adam and the awful confusion after that first attempted kiss. He mentioned using Holly as a cover and the attack on Paddy. He shared his feelings on Jackson and the assault. He even talked about his suicide attempt.

Daniels listened long into the night and the whole thing had felt cathartic, like a little part of him was letting go, and when Aaron had finished, they just lay down together and fell asleep.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Thank you, Sylvain**

* * *

Jackson rocked slightly, hearing the crisp breaking of the December morning frost beneath his feet as he stood at the foot of the small hill. Looking up, he could see no sign of life from the cottage housed on the top. He felt dread and anxiety, a feeling that had increased the moment he found out that Aaron had not gone into work. He'd stalked the garage earlier from his van, vigilantly watching the comings and goings of every individual and when Aaron hadn't turned up, had no choice but to ask Cain where he was. Cain had reluctantly told him that he didn't know.

He knew he was responsible, knew that his cold behaviour towards Aaron this morning had hurt the younger man more than he'd ever intended. But where was he now? Had he even come back to the village? In the short amount of time he'd known Aaron, Jackson knew how easily upset he could get, how defensive and sensitive he could be. Had Aaron done something stupid? Jackson didn't know.

He clapped his hands together, rubbing them and blowing his hot breath into their palms. For ten minutes he'd been standing there, his fingers losing colour and his breath coming out in thick waves of smoke. As much as he liked the idea of walking away and hiding from what had happened, Jackson knew that he had to speak to Aaron. He couldn't leave it and so took that first uneasy step up the path. He stopped as the door opened and, for a split second, relief flooded him. Aaron was there.

Jackson held his breath, he was unspotted as Aaron fumbled with the lock of Smithy Cottage's door and then as he made his way to the 4x4 vehicle parked on the drive. He didn't call out until Aaron saw him. "Hi."

There was a flash of recognition but Aaron didn't respond. "Aaron, wait." Jackson wasn't being listened to. He couldn't leave it though, he felt awful. He wasn't going to allow a return to the previous tension between them. He knew it was his fault this time and he couldn't pretend nothing happened, Aaron deserved an explanation.

"Aaron!" Jackson ran up the path, watching Aaron hastily disappear into the car. "Aaron, please." He grabbed hold of the front passenger door, pulling it open. "We need to talk."

"We don't need to talk." Aaron put the key into the ignition and started the engine, he wouldn't meet Jackson's gaze. "Yes, we do."

"You said everything you needed to say earlier. Now, I've got to go somewhere."

"I didn't say anything earlier, that's the problem."

"I got the message." His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. "I've got to go somewhere and Paddy said I can only have the car for a few hours."

"When can we talk?"

"There's nothing to say."

"I need to explain."

The gear stick was moved and the handbrake was released. Jackson could barely believe that Aaron would start to drive with the door open, especially with him hanging through it. The car began to reverse. "Aaron…" But he read in Aaron's face the instinct to run, knew that it was a default setting with the younger man. He wasn't one to face things, couldn't stand his ground, even when it was something so serious that it could lead to a prison sentence. Before Jackson realised, he was climbing up onto the passenger seat. The car abruptly stopped. "Get out!"

"No."

"I don't want to talk to you, don't you get that?"

"I don't care." Aaron's jaw clenched and he lifted his foot from the break. The car jerked into reverse, sliding down the drive far too quickly and Jackson shouted at him to slow down. Aaron didn't listen, he spun the car around and slammed his foot down, speeding them along the road without taking any care to see who was nearby. Aaron stopped about thirty feet later.

"Jackson, please, get out." He voice turned desperate.

"I just want to talk."

"I've got to go somewhere."

"Can we talk later then?"

"Jackson…" Aaron trailed off. He looked to be utterly sickened by the situation, that every bone in his body was screaming that he needed to get away. Aaron rested his forehead against the steering wheel and didn't say a word, perhaps hoping that Jackson would just give up and leave.

"I know you're upset about earlier. I just think you deserve an explanation." He didn't get a response. "I didn't mean to upset you."

A button was suddenly pressed on the stereo and a dial turned up until music blared so loudly that it felt like it was being played from inside Jackson's head. Jackson didn't try to turn it down instead just staring at Aaron. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I can't deal with this now!" If it was left to Aaron, then the issue would be avoided forever. Jackson stood his ground. "Fine!" The car began moving again, this time at a more reasonable speed. Jackson didn't have a clue of their destination, didn't know if there was really somewhere that Aaron needed to be or if he had just wanted to get away as quickly as possible. He just sat silently, watching the other man, watching him trying to pretend he wasn't being watched. Eventually, the music was turned to a more tolerable level.

This was ridiculous. What was he meant to do now? Was Aaron ever going to listen to him? The Yorkshire fields flew past them and familiar trees and bushes gave way to the busy bypass that took them around Hotten. He felt like he should be getting angry, angry at Aaron's immaturity, angry that he wasn't being given a chance to apologise, the way the he'd allowed Aaron earlier. But there was something in Aaron's frame and Jackson read this as more then injured pride. In those first few exchanges of words, Jackson had thought exactly that, but now he read the desperation, knew that he dreaded Jackson being with him but couldn't understand why.

"Where are we going?" He got no answer, just the tightening of a jaw. They carried on, the drive continuing for twenty minutes and longer. Jackson could see Aaron's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and the shaking of his hands on the steering wheel, "Are you OK?" The knuckles on Aaron right hand caught Jackson's attention, they were scrapped and bruised. "How did you hurt your hand?" It wasn't a surprise when he was ignored. It didn't matter though, Jackson could well imagine. After all, those cuts hadn't been there last night when he'd twirled his fingers around Aaron's and they hadn't been there earlier, in the cold light of the morning after.

A sign read Robblesfield and Jackson vaguely remembered travelling down this road before. He didn't know Robblesfield well. He'd only ever done a few jobs there and had never really needed to navigate the place. They drove along the main high street and turned right, up a hill, trailing a row of terrace properties. They continued, Aaron looking more and more anxious. They travelled up to an area leading to a flat expanse, the houses became detached, with front gardens and driveways, they past a large park with a playground and drove on. It was unexpected when Aaron pulled in towards the curb.

"You've got to get out, I can't do this with you here."

"Aaron…"

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" Aaron wouldn't look at him, his earlier anger completely dissolved.

"I just wanted to apologise."

"Fine, apology accepted. Now, get out."

Jackson's eye widened, "What, here? I don't know where I am. How the hell am I meant to get back?" He watched Aaron bit his bottom lip and turn his head away. "Why is it so hard for you to talk to me? Why are you acting like this?"

"Oh, that's rich coming from you."

"_Yes_, that's exactly what I want to talk about, because you deserve to know why I acted the way I did."

"I don't care." Aaron gritted his teeth.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't." He faced Jackson, renewed anger seeping from every pore, sarcasm and defensiveness encasing his words. "Look, you were a nice lay and all that but I honestly couldn't give a shit about what happened."

Something inside Jackson snapped. He slammed his hands down. "Prison hasn't changed you at all, has it?" This kept happening, Aaron kept pushing, kept bringing out the irrational fury. Why did he care so much? Aaron's head turned away, feigning indifference to that comment. "You know what? That's fine. You want to pretend that last night meant nothing, then you go ahead. You're no different, are you? Still a stupid, scared kid, still wrapped up in your defensive misery." He was on a roll now. "Being inside has taught you nothing. You're still hiding, still pretending." He opened the door, climbing down from the car as quickly as possible. "I just wanted to do the descent thing and be honest with you. Have you ever been descent in your life, even once?" Aaron still wasn't looking at him, his body tensed. "No, I didn't think so."

He walked away then, slamming the door, and having only the vaguest clue of the journey they'd taken. He wasn't thinking about how he was getting home, wasn't thinking about the long walk or the blistering winds that were far colder than in Emmerdale. He was thinking about his relief. About the welcome wake-up call he'd just received. Last night had been a mistake, an opinion that he'd not been entirely sure of. This had confirmed it though, he knew now without a doubt that he was well rid of Aaron Livesy and if he never saw him again, then it would be too soon.

"Jackson, wait." He continued walking. "Just wait, will you! I'm sorry, OK?" No, it wasn't going to be that easy, Aaron had been forgiven without hesitation many times before. He didn't deserve it now.

"OK, so I was upset. Ok? I don't get what happened." Aaron's words reached down to Jackson. And he stopped, annoyed as his resolve chipped. "Except, I kind of do know, I get that after everything, there's no way we can be together. I didn't even expect it, wasn't even going to try. But then _you_ kissed me Jackson. Why?"

The sad confusion of Aaron's words was felt keenly. There was even shock at him calling this from twenty feet away, where anyone could hear them. Maybe Aaron had changed, even just a little. Jackson turned around. Aaron's coatless form shivered against the wind and he looked so cold and small with his arms wrapped around his torso. He couldn't stay angry. "What happened between us was my fault. I shouldn't have kissed you, I shouldn't have slept with you." Aaron leant against the car, his head down. "You and me, Aaron…" Jackson closed the distance between them. "You and me, it was messy, too messy." He waited for an answer but none came. "And last night, I was drinking, and I'm not saying that I didn't know what I was doing, but my judgement was clouded, I'm so, so sorry."

The chewing of Aaron's bottom lip was a clear sign that the younger man was holding off tears. Jackson resisted the urge to reach out to him, knowing that he didn't deserve any more mixed messages. "I'm sorry, Aaron." What more was there that he could say? This was what he'd come to do and the look on Aaron's face made him regret everything ten times more.

"It's OK." Aaron didn't look very convincing. "You're right, we'd never work." A silence stretched on for too long and Jackson wondered what Aaron was thinking. Did he really agree as easily as he seemed, did Jackson really want to know? Sad realisation hit him, this was really it, he'd hit the nail in the coffin. For all their drama, this was how it ended, with a sad conversation on a windy Yorkshire street. "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

There wasn't much more to say, and so they didn't, each, instead just looking at the other. "Did you really have somewhere that you needed to be?" A fresh, sickly expression spread across Aaron's face and he looked around, realising where he was. "No, it's OK."

"Really?" Jackson knew this was a lie.

"I'll do it another day."

"Is it nearby or did you just stop here?" A gust of wind whistled and they both braced themselves against the cold. "It doesn't matter." He seemed so sad and despondent.

"Aaron…"

"It doesn't matter. I just want to go home." Aaron pulled open the passenger door and motioned for Jackson to get in. He felt uncomfortable and considered momentarily the long walk home. But then he climbed into the vehicle. He felt instantly warmer. From the driver's seat, Aaron didn't even make an attempt to start up the engine. "I have changed, you know." Jackson just looked at him. "I have grown up, I know it might not seem it, but I have."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's OK. But I just want you to know that I am different." For a second, Jackson thought Aaron was trying to change his mind about them getting back together. But he could see this shift in Aaron's expression, like he was psyching himself up for something. "It's time for change."

"OK." Jackson didn't have a clue what he was talking about.

"It's time I got on with my life."

"Yeah."

Aaron took a couple of deep breaths, "OK." It was said more to himself than to Jackson. "I have got to go and do something." Their conversation seemed to ignite something in Aaron, he suddenly had determination. "Wait here. I'll come back." He made a false start in opening the door, appeared to lose his bottle but then squared his shoulders and climbed out of the car. "Wait here. I'll come back," he repeated.

Jackson followed Aaron's form until it disappeared around a corner. He wasn't sure how long 'waiting here' would entail. Sinking into the seat, he relaxed, relieved, relieved that despite the earlier confrontation they seemed to have sorted everything out. He also felt a little strange, like there were still many things left unsaid and also, if he was honest, like he wasn't quite ready to let go.

Jackson leant forward in his seat, scanning the road to see if Aaron was returning. Yeah, this was exactly the outcome he said he wanted, now they could just be friends. _Just friends_. Jackson suddenly wanted to laugh at himself, apparently he'd learnt nothing new either. How could he and Aaron just be friends, especially since Jackson knew he felt more for the other man, knew that there was no point denying it? He folded his arms. He was an idiot. He imagined being friends in one thought whilst in another, considered pulling Aaron close to him. They couldn't be friends.

Jackson made a decision. He wasn't going to wait, he needed to create distance. Hurriedly, he scanned the car, looking for a piece of paper and pen. He couldn't stay and wait, he needed to make the break right now. He looked in the glove compartment and found some paper but his continuing search uncovered no pen. He sighed, maybe he should just leave. Was it rude to head home without an explanation? Of course it was.

The wind hit the moment Jackson opened the car door and he quickly pulled his coat tighter around him. It felt now to have gotten even colder, his fingers and toes turning painful upon contact with the December air. He began walking, knowing of the direction Aaron headed but nothing more, Jackson took the same bend that Aaron had taken earlier and absently read the street sign, it said 'BOUNDRY CLOSE', the name meant nothing to him. He continued, passing a tall row of fern trees covering the garden of the first property and walked on. The street quickly opened to an enclosed area, a 'close' as the name stated. They were all large buildings, in a mock-Tudor style. Each had large lawns that in the summer would no doubt be beautiful. Beyond the houses, Jackson glimpsed the Yorkshire countryside—he hadn't realised they were so high up. He kept going, following the bend which was wide and slowly revealed each house, there must have been ten all together. He scanned each one, looking for Aaron, it was then that he spotted him.

He'd been partially obscured by a bush, his dark tracksuit bottoms absorbed into the bleak winter scene. Aaron was standing at the base of a drive, arms wrapped tightly around himself, seemingly frozen.

"Aaron?"

Aaron turned to him, his wide eyes brimming with tears, his expression aghast. All thoughts of Jackson leaving flew from his head. "What's wrong? Did you do what you needed to do?"

"I can't." Aaron's body shook.

"Why?" He'd been gone for twenty minutes, had he been standing there for that long? Jackson resisted the urge to wrap an arm around him to warm him up. "They've moved." Aaron sounded devastated. "Look, the house has been sold, the property's empty. I've left it too long." Jackson spotted the large estate agent's board. "You don't know where they've gone?"

"No," Aaron rubbed at his head, "what am I going to do?" He wasn't talking to Jackson. "Oh god, what am I going to do?"

"It will be alright."

"How will it be alright, I don't have a forwarding address?"

"Who do you need to see?"

"Fuck, _fuck_!" Aaron kicked the low wall circling the property. "Fuck!" It was like his world had ended.

"What's going on, who do you need to see? Aaron?"

"That's none of your business!" Aaron stormed away then, his arms wrapped tightly around his body. He turned back, stopping short of Jackson, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"I can see this means a lot to you."

"Yeah, it does."

"You need to do it in order to 'get on with your life'?" He remembered Aaron's words from earlier.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry." He didn't know what he was sorry for.

It was then that Jackson noticed the builder's sign stapled to the brick wall, he recognised the name of the company. "Aaron," he spoke cautiously, "there might be a way to get a forwarding address."

"Yeah?"

"There's a builder's sign, the new owners are obviously having some work done."

"Ok?"

"I've worked for the same firm." Light flashed in Aaron's eyes. "I could call them, see if they could get a forwarding address."

"You think they'll give you that information?"

"They probably shouldn't, but they know me, they'll do it if they can."

It wasn't happiness that reach Aaron's face, more like relief, marred with dread. "You'll do that for me?" He looked at Aaron, looked into his eyes and saw the life line that this was.

"Yeah."

"OK."

What was it that was so important?


	21. Chapter Twenty

**Hello everyone, I was hoping you could do me a favour. I'd like to get a sense of the people who read my stories, for no reason other than curiosity. **

**If you are willing would you mind writing in a review your, gender, age and the country/city you live in. I know only a few people ever review each chapter but it would truly appreciated if even those who don't, just take a minute to post this. **

**As I've said, it's for no reason than my own curiosity. I guess it just blows my mind that i'm sat here in front of my little laptop whilst there are people out there reading my work, and loving it and I have no idea they even exist.**

**I would really appreciate it. **

**I'll start: Female. 28yrs old. United Kingdom.**

**Cheers**

* * *

Aaron walked through the door; he lingered against the chipped white paint on the door frame and studied, briefly, the man in the room. "Hi."

Daniels was looking to the floor, his shoulders hunched and his head rested in his hand. "Hi." Aaron had interrupted a quiet, reflective moment, rarely seen in the other man. Daniels always said that 'thinking never helped anyone', that 'thinking lead to feeling'. It was unusual to see him now, so quiet, without a book or another inmate he was taunting, to focus his concentration on. "How was your mum?"

Aaron slid into the room, "She was OK, a bit surprised that I was willing to see her."

"Sure."

"She just spent this visit skirting around what happened during the last. I thought she was going to ask for my forgiveness, but I think she was too scared to mention anything."

"Did you tell her that you were OK?" Aaron shook his head. "You should have."

It was so strange to see Daniels like this, so still. The man was usually a whirlwind of chaos—something of his own doing. Had Aaron ever seen him like this? Probably not, and he knew it was down to one person. "I take it Louise didn't turn up?"

"Nope." Aaron remained quiet. "She's back to her old tricks again."

"Sorry."

"Don't be, it won't last. She'll come back, she always does." The chair Daniels rested on was near Aaron's bed and when he sat down, hearing the springs creak, their knees touched. Neither of them moved their legs. "You seem pretty sure."

Daniels nodded, "This has been going on for twelve years, there's no reason for anything to change now."

Twelve years behind bars. Aaron couldn't imagine it. He knew Daniels was only young when he was sent down, knew they'd only been married for four years. How they were still together, however tentatively, was miracle. "She always sees sense, eventually."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, fake suicide attempts, threats, I even told her that I'd hired someone to kidnap the kids once." Daniels shrugged. "Who knows if I was serious?"

Somehow, Aaron was sure he was.

"Was it worth it?"

"What?"

"Was it worth robbing that bank? Killing that woman?"

A small chuckle escaped Daniels lips. "What, missing my wife? Not seeing my children growing up, them thinking of me as a stranger?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you really want to know?" The look on Daniels face almost made Aaron let the question fall to the wayside. That slight curl of his lips, almost forming a smile, scared Aaron, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. "Yes."

"I don't regret it, not one bit." He was right, he didn't want the answer. "You've got no idea of the rush I got from the muffled begs of that woman. I've never felt anything like it." Daniels looked off wistfully. "She squirmed that day, drool falling down her chin from the gag stuffed in her mouth. She cried about her kids, about her sick husband. I'd never seen a wider pair of eyes or dignity so completely abandoned. It was the most amazing thing I've ever seen." Aaron swallowed. "There was a moment where I was going to let her live, but if I'd have done that, then I would have never seen her face react as she heard the shot, never heard the intense, short, sharp screams of pure panic uttered by the other hostages. I'd have never known what it felt like to take a life." He looked at Aaron. "I recommend it, Aaron, taking a life, it's the most amazing thing you'll ever do." Daniels closed the gap between them. "I've always imagined killing your enemies to be amazing, but the randomness of a complete stranger—now that was something else. She woke up that morning, completely innocent, probably never looking over her shoulder through fear, not a single enemy, and having absolutely no idea that that day would be her last." He smiled softly, "I think a life sentence was pretty worth it, don't you?"

Aaron didn't answer.

"You're horrified, aren't you?" A hand covered Aaron's, he felt its roughness. "You're horrified that you could be in love with a man like me, aren't you?" Aaron's heartbeat increased. "You think 'what does this say about me, to let a man like this touch me, to _want_ a man like this to be with me?', that's what you're thinking, I can see it in your eyes. The fear, just like that woman I killed."

Aaron hesitated, "Is that what you get out of this? My fear, my confusion?" The remaining hand on Aaron's legs started making small circles. Daniels lips moved closer. "No."

"Then what?" He gently cupped Aaron's head. "I get you…" he paused, their eyes meeting, the meaning of Daniels' words hanging in the air. "But in six weeks, you'll be released and I'll just be a nightmare that you're glad you escaped."

Daniels was evil, something that Aaron was sure of without a doubt. He felt it every time they spoke and touched. He felt in his relief when they weren't together and when he desired Daniels to be around. Fingers slightly caressed beneath Aaron top, he shivered once contact was made with skin.

Was this what love was, an intense need for someone that went beyond sanity and reason? Aaron grasped Daniels chin. "I'll visit you."

"You will?"

"Yes."

Their lips came together, merging, becoming one. Daniels left his seat, moving to cover Aaron, reclining him onto the bed. They stayed this way, seeking skin, stubble graving cheeks. A hand slipped into Aaron's underwear and all thoughts of how crazy this was remained firmly chained away in the rational part of his brain. He knew they should stop, his soul was being destroyed and his abandon was sure to get them caught through the still open door of their cell. But Aaron didn't care, he was past that point. He needed this man, needed to feel so completely owned. Their kisses became heated. Daniels pulled down Aaron's trousers and Aaron fumbled with the buttons on Daniels shirt. They continued kissing, strengthening the connection, pushing into another, noses squashed, eyes tightly closed and teeth clashing. Their breaths deepened.

"You boys sure look like you're having fun." Daniels immediately rolled off Aaron, his heavy pants following, his eyes wide. This left Aaron exposed and his hands flew to cover is genitals. It was Stalk, of course. His voice had been recognisable. His tiny eyes narrowed and his mouth turned to a sneer. He looked down at Aaron's crotch, raising his eyebrow in a congratulatory way. "Impressive," he turned to Daniels, "I can see the appeal."

Daniels jumped up from the bed, his frame tightening. "What do you think Louise would say if she could see you now?" Aaron scrambled for his trousers, struggling to get them over his hips whilst lying down. "Do you think she likes the idea of your dick being inside that? Do you think she'll let you anywhere near her after she finds out just what you like doing with little boys?" Daniels exploded. Aaron was up and pulling him back, using all his strength to uncurl Daniels' hands from Stalks shirt. "Tom!"

Stalks aggressive laugh boomed, "Listen to him, _Tom_, listen to your little bitch."

"You stay away from my wife!" Aaron pulled harder but it was useless against the adrenalin felt coursing through Daniels. "Oh , there's no way I'm staying away from your wife." Eyes flashed excitedly. "Haven't you heard, I had a parole meeting today, they're letting me out in a few weeks."

"No!"

"Oh yes, and don't worry. I'll look after Louise, she'll need someone to comfort her when she finds out her husbands a poof!"

Daniels gritted his teeth, "She won't believe you!"

"I'll make her, I've got plenty of time. The rest of our lives in fact!"

This was it, the final sentence. Daniels swung his fist straight into Stalk's nose and blood exploded. Aaron pulled harder. Everyone yelled and Stalk laughed hard. Guards came running in, two pulled Aaron away, forcing him up against the wall, others grabbed hold of Daniels who had Stalk around the neck. It took four of them all together, each clinging to a limb with every bit of strength they had. The last thing Aaron saw was Daniels being dragged away, his screams of threats sounding off the prison walls and Stalk slumped on the ground gasping for breath.

They put Daniels in isolation for three days.


	22. Chapter Twenty One

**Hello, everyone.**

**I hope you all had a great Christmas. Thank you all for leaving that information I requested. It amazes me how far some of you are and how you came across Aaron and Jackson in the first place—I'm guessing Youtube played its part.**

**Thank god for the internet.**

* * *

The prison warden had had enough. He thought the fights constantly erupting between Daniels and Stalk were too disruptive and decided to separate the pair. Stalk had been removed from the wing immediately and Aaron only saw him when he delivered the mail. Aaron didn't understand why it hadn't happened sooner, bitterly aware that Stalk wouldn't now have any leverage had he been moved months ago. For three days Aaron waited, with no clue as to how long Daniels would be in isolation and missing him more than he could bear. Their last conversation had changed things, no, not changed, deepened. Aaron felt bizarrely like a person waiting for his loved one's return from a trip, like something too important was missing from his life. He didn't like this feeling. He'd said to Daniels that he'd 'visit him' once released. Had he meant that? Of course he had and the thought of leaving prison and never seeing him again made him feel physically ill. The whole thing was crazy, what was he going to do, alternate visiting weeks with Louise? Introduce him as his boyfriend to his Mum and Paddy? Was Daniels now his boyfriend? How had he managed to get himself into this situation, he wasn't even meant to be gay. Aaron clutched his head and looked up from his chair. Daniels' bed was empty.

What if it was a whole week before he returned? What if, like Stalk, he got moved to another wing?

Aaron swallowed hard.

* * *

When the key turned in the door, Aaron hadn't expected Daniels to walk in seconds later. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, relieved. When Daniels wouldn't look at him, Aaron raised an eyebrow. "You OK?"

Daniels walked straight to the small cabinet in their room and removed his wash bag, collecting his razor and towel. "Tom?" He was ignored. "What's wrong?"

There was no answer and not even a glimpse in Aaron's direction. Daniels merely walked straight out and Aaron wasn't sure if he should follow.

His heart thudded in his chest so loudly and Aaron knew it was the adrenalin caused by the uncertainty of everything. He always got this, in almost every situation where his emotions were unsettled. He got it when he found out his Mum had left to be with Carl, when Paddy confronted him about his sexuality, his suicide attempt and during that kiss with Jackson. In fact, whenever he thought about Jackson, he got it. Apparently, that now extended to Daniels.

Why was he being ignored?

* * *

"What's going on?" Aaron stood his ground, not allowing Daniels to leave the cell. The other man's top lip snarled and his eyes narrowed. "Get out of my way, Livesy."

"Livesy? Are we being formal now?"

"I said get out of my way." Daniels' hardened face loomed, his easy smiles long gone. "Why are you being like this?" Aaron felt like a needy girlfriend, begging her boyfriend to speak to her, but he couldn't let this go on. Daniels had ignored him all day, he'd not spoken to him or answered any of Aaron's questions. He'd not looked at him, not touched him. "Is this about Stalk? Tom, is this because you're scared of what he'll say, because we can be more careful, I'll stay away from you when we're outside."

A hand curled around the front of Aaron's shirt. "You'll stay away from me in here."

"But what about what you said?" Daniels snorted. "You were a good fuck, that's all," his large hand wrapped around Aaron's throat, "Now, I suggest you let me past unless you want me to snap your neck."

Aaron moved out of the way.

* * *

He took a deep breath as he gripped the beige plastic tray. He walked past the first table with available seats and the next, his goal firmly insight. There was a lot of noise from one particular group, one man held centre court as he ordered another inmate to leave his tray on the table and keep walking. This inmate looked around, his eyes wide, an incredulous look on his face. Aaron headed towards them.

"Sausages and mash, my favourite." The man smiled at the other inmate, the smile getting wider as the inmate's trembling increased. Eventually, the inmate left, his head down. The man looked at the tray now on the table. "Actually, I'm not that hungry." The group roared with laughter.

The noise died as Aaron reached the table. "Fuck off!"

"No." Five days ago, he would have been given the best seat. The man rose from his chair. "I said fuck off."

"No." Aaron stared him down. The other inmates went quiet, all eyes waiting to see what would happen next. This was ridiculous, none of them would believe it and Stalk wasn't even there, so what was the point?

The man got in his face, "I'm going to tell you one last time…" Aaron recognised this man, but not from recently, from months ago, when he'd first arrived. This man hadn't looked at him in this way since then. "I'm not going anywhere."

Aaron's tray was grabbed and thrown, it crashed, silencing the room, the cutlery sprawled and clanged against the floor, the food flew, hitting some of the other inmates.

"What the hell's going on here?" A guard came over.

"Livesy's had an accident," the man's eyes narrowed, "haven't you Livesy?"

Aaron felt himself shake, it had been months since he'd felt so unsafe.

"_Havn't you Livesy_…"

"Yeah, sorry."

The guard walked away, returning with a dustpan and brush and a mop. On his hands and knees, Aaron cleaned. Around him, he heard the other inmates laughing and kept feeling the soft thud as food was thrown at him.

He looked up as he finished, into the eyes of that man. Yeah, he recognised him, but not from recently.

* * *

Aaron didn't want anyone to know he was gay, he never had, not even in prison where he had embarked on what could be called a 'full on' relationship. Maybe he only handled it because no one really said anything. Any tiny remark that even slightly alluded to him and Daniels being together was met with swift action from Daniels and the inmates had quickly learnt to keep their mouth shut.

It was almost like he had everything he ever really wanted; a man to be with and yet still able to pretend that nothing had changed. It was unhealthy—Aaron knew this––and that it was with Daniels, a complete maniac, made it even worse. But he didn't want it to end, couldn't let it lie. Since Daniels' return from isolation, Aaron felt that he couldn't see straight. When they had been together, he felt fear and lust, all at the same time, mingled together. Now he just felt fear and emptiness.

No one liked Daniels, and Daniels liked no one. He was a lone wolf, he didn't form lasting alliances, didn't attached himself to friends. Everything he did held an ulterior motive, he was utterly calculating and Aaron knew why he was hanging around this current group of people, it was because of him. It was only a few months ago when Daniels was in a bitter rivalry against this 'gang'. He'd teamed up with Stalk and broken their leader's arms and legs. Simmons, the guy's name was, the same man who'd grabbed Aaron's head and simulated oral sex. Him talking to Simmons now was a warning to Aaron, to stay away.

And Aaron knew he should, but he couldn't.

He walked over, his hands still bunched up inside his sleeves and his footsteps hesitant. Simmons noticed him first. "Daniels, someone for you, I think." The man had an indistinct accent; it wasn't northern and wasn't local. The whites of his eyes beamed against his brown skin as he looked Aaron up and down.

"Can I have a word?" He was ignored. "Tom… Daniels."

Simmons smirked, "I think you need to run along, little boy." Daniels still hadn't turned around, flanked by Simmons and the other members of his gang. Aaron wanted to laugh, Daniels was pathetic, what had he done, employed Simmons as a body guard to protect him from his feelings for Aaron? He would have said this out loud if it wouldn't have been followed by a beating.

"Fine, I'll talk to you tonight, when we're _alone _in our cell." His comment was foolishly obvious and understood by those sitting around, a few smirked.

Aaron just walked away.

* * *

Steam rose from the shower, fogging the room and clinging to his skin. He ducked his head down beneath the stream and allowed the hot jets to course over his body, delighting in the warmth. The prison showers were better than the one at Paddy's and he'd have taken this one any day had it not been for the fact that you never get to shower on your own. There were ten altogether in one room, five lining each wall to the left and right and a series of mirrors facing the door that had a sink beneath so that you could shave. There was never any privacy and at all times you were probably with at least four other people. He got use to it though, something that in the first week he'd avoided.

He lathered up the soap and started applying it to his body. In the beginning, he'd always faced the wall whilst showering. He was only eighteen after all. He was embarrassed about his body, embarrassed that he might become aroused at the sight of the men around him. That hadn't lasted long either, just like so many things that he just came to accept. Like the mediocre food that now he thought was amazing, or the lumpy mattress that he now slept on soundly. It scared him to think how acclimatized he was to the place, how accommodating he now found it in just four and a half months. Of course, this could be more down to Daniels, the person who had turned this place into home. Aaron squeezed his eyes shut, he didn't want to think about Daniels, who he'd tried to talk to again last night and failed. He was just going to have to accept that whatever twisted thing they had was now over.

Aaron turned up the heat, allowing the slight burning to control the emotions he felt building up. He leant his head back against the wall, the steam bellowed around him, obscuring his view, cocooning him and making it seem as if he were as alone as he felt. He turned off the tap, and blew on the steam, waiting for it to recede. As shapes started to form around the room, Aaron realised that he was alone, that all the showers had emptied. Only he wasn't completely alone. In the room, just to his right, was Simmons with a few of his gang. None of them were undressed to shower and none carried towels.

Aaron's heart beat increased.

"All right, Livesy?"

"What do you want?"

Simmons' eyes raked over Aaron's naked form, "This is familiar, isn't it? I seem to remember the last time you stood before me as naked as you are now, I ended up with a black eye." Aaron grabbed his towel, quickly wrapping it around his waist. "Don't get dressed on my account."

"Fuck off, Simmons."

"You really shouldn't talk to your elders like that. I bet you didn't speak to Daniels with that language." He took a step closer and Aaron felt himself tense. "You're out of favour, he doesn't care about you anymore." Simmons' face, slightly disfigured from his many fights, loomed in front of Aaron. "I said, fuck off." His heart boomed through his chest. Simmons smiled ruefully, "That mouth of yours, Aaron, really needs to be put to better use." A hand reached for Aaron's head but he stepped back. He couldn't believe what was happening, their altercation happened months ago, why now?"

"I don't get it." His breath came out in harsh rasps, "Why get back at me now?"

"There's no one around to get in the way."

What, so all these month he'd been too scared to get revenge because of Daniels? He barely had any enemies in prison, or so he thought, only Simmons and possibly Haines, who was now dead and who Daniels probably murdered. Would he have had a lot more if they weren't terrified of Daniels wrath, would more be coming after him now?

"Look, Simmons…"

"Call me James."

"What?"

He could smell Simmons' cigarette breath, "Call me James, you used to call Daniels by his first name."

"That was different."

Large white teeth beamed at him, "Let's make it the same."

Shaking overwhelmed his body, his naked, vulnerable body. This wasn't happening, it couldn't be happening. His eyes flew around, in panic, suddenly realising that there was no guard at the entrance. Where was the guard, there was always one stationed there. As if psychic, Simmons answered his unspoken question. "We've paid him off, he's not going to be around to hear your screams, and don't worry, Aaron," he stroked Aaron's cheek, "you will be screaming by the end of it."

* * *

The Doctor shone a light in his eye and he followed her instructions to look left and right. She gently touched her finger tips to his cheek but Aaron didn't wince from the pain.

_Simmons wasn't a dangerous man, he was a loser._

She ran her hands down his ribs, asking if any hurt, stating that she didn't think any were broken, nor would they bruise badly.

_Simmons wasn't really a leader, he had his gang but they had no standing in the prison._

She dabbed some sterilised cotton to the cut on his lip.

_The shower room had been cleared, how had he managed that?_

"Do you have any more injuries, Aaron?"

_Simmons didn't have that much money, how could he have paid off the guard?"_

"Did they do anything else to you, Aaron, are there any more injuries other than those to your face and ribs?"

_Someone else arranged this._

* * *

A guard opened the cell door and Aaron entered, his arms tightly crossed, his fury barely contained. Daniels wasn't in his bed as expected but instead raised from the chair he'd clearly been sitting on. It was evening, the inmates had just been ordered to their cells but the lights were still on.

Daniels just looked at him and Aaron wanted to charge, wanted to wrap his hands around the other man's throat and squeeze until every breath left him. "Are you alright?" Concern, he was being shown concern, what a hilarious joke that was.

"Aaron, talk to me."

"Aaron, I'm Aaron now? I thought I was Livesy."

Daniels eye's wrinkled slightly, the ugly scowl worn on his face this last week was now gone. "What did he do to you?" Eyes scanned Aaron's body, now wrapped in prison hospital garb. Aaron laughed, he felt sick. "You know, you set it up."

"No, Aaron…"

"You stay away from me!"

"Aaron…"

"Fuck off!"

"Please…" He couldn't hear it, wouldn't hear the bizarre mix of fear and concern in Daniels' voice. He lunged at the other man, he grabbed for his throat but missed instead clinging to his shirt. "You fucking bastard, you set that up."

"No, I didn't."

Fingers tried to ply his own away, Aaron had him gripped. "The guard left, he was paid off, he must have been paid off, and Simmons doesn't have that cash!"

Daniels grabbed Aaron's wrists, squeezing painfully. He was clinging for dear life but the recent attack from Simmons now weakened him. He was forced down onto the floor, spitting and yelling and trashing as he went. Daniels sat on him, bracing his arms to the floor and covering his mouth.

"Listen to me." Aaron bucked but it was useless. "Listen." He chin was held in a vice-like grip, the cut on his lip opened, he tasted blood.

"I paid the guards, I did, but I didn't know he would do it in the showers, I just gave him the money. I thought it would happen in the library." Hatred shone from Aaron's eyes. "I never told him to rape you, I never wanted that." Pain spiked in his ribs from the pressure of Daniels' body. "He was just meant to rough you up. I just needed you to be put in your place. You were ruining everything, with your following me around. People weren't buying it. It could have got back to Stalk."

A hand uncovered Aaron's mouth, but his head was still held tight. How had he got himself into this situation? How had he allowed himself to become such a victim?

"But I was an idiot, wasn't I? I mean, Louise is coming to visit me tomorrow, Stalk was obviously all talk." Tears filled Daniels' eyes, Aaron had never seen him come even close to crying before. "I never meant for this to happen, you've got to believe me. I was sick, I was actually sick when I heard what happened, physically, you know?" Daniels rested his head to Aaron's but Aaron felt numb. "I'll get revenge. I swear, I'll kill him, I will. Please, I need you Aaron, I need you…" Aaron's mouth felt thick, everything that had happened since being sent down, flashed through his mind's eye. He was pathetic, he was nothing, he was lower than he'd ever thought possible. "I never meant for him to rape you."

"He didn't rape me." A tear leaked from Aaron's eye

"What?"

"He was gonna," He licked his teeth, trying to loosen them, "another guard came in, he'd only gotten as far as getting me down on my knees."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Gasps escaped Daniels mouth and he gathered Aaron up into his arms, "Thank god, thank god!"

'How ironic', thought Aaron, that a man who thought of himself as a god also bowed down to one. Maybe Daniels was _his_ god, maybe he'd created this world in seven days and now Aaron was existing within every whim of this god; in favour, out of favour, hated, loved, his love amazing, his hate treacherous. He felt Daniels' kisses. What now? Did they start again? Did Daniels think that just because he'd only intended a beating that somehow his hateful act could be forgiven? Was the fact that he'd escaped rape and was now back in his arms a sign that all should be forgotten?

He was still on the floor, still cradled by the man insistently kissing him, who was murmuring to him, a man who had become his whole world. He'd created all his happiness. He'd conjured intense fear and pain. He'd humiliated, he'd used, he'd abused. Aaron had become his plaything. He'd been tortured, he'd been loved. He'd been tied up in knots and spat out by this man now begging him for forgiveness.

He was now nothing, lower than what he'd ever been before. _He'd forgotten what he'd been before_. He was weak, utterly degraded, just this thing to be done with as people wished. This would have never happened before. Who was he? He used to be the person that never let anyone get close. Never had anyone hurt him, was the one who terrorized and always got even. He needed to find that person now, needed to dig deep, to detach himself from this snivelling wimp he'd become. Aaron needed to get his revenge on those who had wronged him.

Daniels was stroking his cheek, he didn't feel it.

Yeah, Aaron was going to get his revenge.

_Aaron was going to get his revenge._

* * *

He stayed concealed, hanging around just inside the gate and hiding behind a large cylinder pipe. He kept himself pressed to the wall, intent on not being spotted. The mail trolley rattled towards him and the squat body of its pusher came into view.

"Hey," Aaron whispered and the large head of Stalk turned to face him. There was a look on his face, not quite surprise, more intrigue. "What can I do for you, Livesy?" He kept his voice just as low.

"You remember that offer you made, about leaving Daniels with a parting gift?"

Stalk grinned, "Yeah."

"Well, if you're still up for it, I'm in."

"What have you got in mind?"

"Nothing yet, but…"

Stalked chuckled, "OK, leave it with me."


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

**Wow, almost a month into the new year already. Sorry for the delay in updating. I've had a nightmare with a computer virus.**

**Thank you once again to Sylvain, who continues to battle my grammatical errors.**

* * *

Daniels wouldn't let Aaron out of his sight during the two days after Aaron had spoken to Stalk. Aaron thought that maybe he'd seen them talking, that maybe he sussed that their collective brains were working overtime, trying to figure out a way to bring Daniels down. He'd go with him to the shower, the TV room, the canteen. He fell asleep with Daniels sitting close by, watching. Aaron was sure that the man knew something, why else was he with him at all times?

"Are you going to stay there all night?" he'd asked on the second night as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark.

"Yep." There'd been this wide-eyed expression to his face since the attack, a look of curiosity.

"You not tired?" Daniels never slept much.

"No."

"I'm going to be fine." Daniels shook his head. "That's what we thought about the cat."

"Cat?"

"I had a cat as a boy. I watched it get hit by a car. It ran into our house, straight to its bed. A couple of days later, it dropped down dead—shook."

"You think I might die of shook?"

"Maybe."

Aaron swallowed, "Are you watching me because you're scared I'll die of shook or because you've always wanted to see something like that?"

Through the darkness, Daniels' grin could be seen forming, "Probably both."

Now Aaron understood.

* * *

The number of his old building firm flashed on his mobile phone and Jackson dropped his bacon sandwich to answer. "Hey Mike." The man on the other end had a raspy voice, created from years of smoking forty a day. "Hi Jackson."

"So, what's up?" As if he didn't know, he'd been waiting for this information for the last three days.

"I got the forwarding address. You going to tell me what it's for?"

"No." The problem was that he couldn't even if he wanted to, he didn't have that information. Ultimately though, he knew that it wouldn't be an issue. They all knew gentle, placid Jackson, all knew that whatever his reason, it would never come back on them because Jackson just wasn't the type to cause trouble.

Mike cleared his throat, "OK. Here's the woman's address.

He'd not known whose information he was getting, Aaron had failed to mention even the gender of the person he was looking for and so he keenly listened as the name was read out. Immediately, something reverberated in the back of his mind and he knew that the name was familiar. It took him until the end of the conversation to realise that it wasn't the first name that he recognised, it was the last.

* * *

Stalk's fat, clammy hand drummed on the library bookshelf. He had a weird hand, his fingers were incredibly short. His hands looked almost webbed and it was enough of a distraction that Stalk words were going unheard.

"You're the key." The hand stopped drumming and pointed a stumpy digit towards him. Aaron briefly looked down at his own hands to make sure they didn't look the same. "The only way to bring down Daniels is if Louise knows about you two."

Stalk wasn't saying anything that Aaron hadn't already figured out himself. He wondered if those hands were as sweaty as they looked. His face didn't appear overly sweaty, surprisingly. Stalk continued, "We need proof about what's been going on."

Aaron felt exhausted. He felt strained and suspended and laid bare. He'd swayed back and forth between anger and fear. Sometimes, he wanted to lay down in his bed and hide, other times he was ready to kick and scream. He was irritable, confrontational, probably more like his old self again, the self he was before prison. But, at the same time, neither of these emotional states were really him, it was like he had slipped on a latex costume, stretched tightly across his skin, wrapping him close. He kept trying to pull it off but it prevented his movements. He must be in shook, Daniels was right, he was in shook. He hoped he didn't drop down dead before he'd had the chance to get to Daniels. Can someone even really die of shook?

"Livesy…" Those clammy hands were now on his shoulders, getting his attention. "Are you still in on this?"

"Yeah."

"As I was saying, _you_ are the key."

"And Louise.

"And Louise."

"She needs to know exactly what her husband has been up to."

Stalk removed his hands, "Yep, so how?" Aaron had an image in his head. It was of Daniels all alone. Aaron released from prison, his wife ending their relationship. It would destroy Daniels. She was his kryptonite and possibly, so was Aaron. "What if I wrote her a letter?"

"Do you have her address?" There were envelopes strewed around his cell with her address on it, that wouldn't be a problem. "Yeah, but don't you have it?"

"No, I haven't seen Louise except when I'm in the same room when she's visiting."

"But I thought you were after her." He allowed himself to briefly imagine Stalks sweaty hands on Louise's body. It was almost enough of a reason to call the whole thing off, no one deserved that.

"That old tart, I don't think so, I just like winding up Daniels."

"Oh." He thought Daniels might be vaguely upset with this information, he'd always boasted that she'd picked him over Stalk and had continued to stay loyal (well sort of anyway) over the years. "OK, so I'll write her a letter."

"Yeah, but it needs more than that." Stalk was drumming his fingers again, they were so fat that they rubbed as they motioned past each other. It sickened Aaron, him not sure if he was imagining the sound they made or not. He pinched the bridge of his nose whilst closing his eyes. He stayed like that, enjoying the peaceful cocoon of darkness from beneath his lids, he felt his heart rate and knew he was swaying to the rhythm.

"God, he's fucked you up, ain't he?"

Aaron opened his eyes, "Whatcha mean?"

"You're a fucking state, you don't know whether you're coming or going."

Aaron shrugged and Stalk's hands lay once again on his shoulders. Aaron thought he was going to throw up. "When you first got here, you were quiet, you kept to yourself. Daniels has got inside your head, you're a fucking zombie. You may have been scared in the beginning but at least your head wasn't fucked. You need to take back control."

He was making all the right noises, even saying out loud what Aaron was thinking. He was even making it sound like he wanted to do Aaron a favour, rather than get one over on his old nemesis.

"OK," Aaron looked around the library, they were standing exactly in the same spot where he'd witnessed Daniels and Bennett fooling around. An idea formed in his mind and the irony wasn't lost. "Ok, I've got an idea."

* * *

"You alright?" Aaron's hands were stuffed deeply inside his coat pockets. He'd looked at Jackson nervously as he'd approached. Despite the cold December air, Jackson had been determined that they should meet in a place where no one else would be around and at eleven in the morning, the village playground seemed like the place.

"Have you heard anything?" They'd not really spoken, their last conversation still heavy in the air and Jackson had said he'd text once he knew more.

"Yeah."

"OK, did you get the address?"

"Yeah…" Jackson had thought a lot about this. He'd actually received the information the day before and held it tightly, unsure of how to proceed. He couldn't help but speculate and think—why did Aaron want to see her? What was he hoping to achieve? And then he'd thought further back, to the attack in prison, to his release. And then there was their night together. Ideas formulated and a history started to unfold, too horrifying to be true.

"But?"

"Who are you going to see, Aaron?"

"It doesn't matter," he held out his hand, presumably thinking that it would be written on a piece of paper. Jackson didn't move. "Jackson…"

"I need to know, Aaron."

"No, you don't, this is for me to sort out on my own."

Jackson folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. Aaron grunted, "For goodness sake!" he tapped his foot against the children's climbing frame, it was almost aggressive.

"I'm worried about you."

"You've got no reason to be!"

"Really?" He closed the gap between them, "So you desperately needing to talk to the widow of the man who put you into a coma, that's nothing to worry about?"

"If you knew, then why ask?"

"Why do you need to see her? Her husband's dead."

He watched Aaron close his eyes.

"Do _you_ know why her husband's dead? There was silence and a shifting from foot to foot. Jackson swallowed a sickly feeling at the thought that his guess work could be right. He grabbed Aaron's arms, "OK, Aaron, look," he hesitated, "are you responsible?" He couldn't believe he was about to ask this next question. He paused, "Did you kill Daniels?"

His hands were suddenly thrown off and he quickly started after Aaron as he stormed away. "Look, Aaron, it's OK." He ran to meet Aaron's strides, "I just want to help. You said Daniels was your cellmate." He grabbed Aaron's sleeve, determined not to let go.

"Get off me!"

"No." He gripped hard and they pulled against one another, coming head to head, the warm air of their breaths mingling. "Did you kill Daniels? It's OK."

"What?" Aaron laughed harshly, "It's OK, you think it's OK, do you?"

"Yeah, I mean no, of course not. But maybe if you had no choice. Maybe Daniels made you do stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Did Daniels make you do stuff? Did he force you to do stuff, Aaron?"

"Like what?"

Aaron was still pulling but Jackson wasn't letting him run away like he always did. "Did he rape you?"

Aaron's eyes widened, he stopped abruptly. "Rape me?"

"Yeah. That other night, with me. I know that wasn't your first time. The stuff that you were willing to do. You were so scared after our first kiss and yet, suddenly, you were really experienced. You had to learn that in prison." Aaron just looked at him. "Did he force you into things? Did you make him angry somehow? Did he beat you up because of it? Did you snap, did you lose control because of what he did to you? Did you end up killing him?"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

Jackson dropped his arms. "So, tell me…"

"I need that address."

"You're not getting it!"

They were still standing so close, close enough to see Aaron's bottom lip tremble and the corner of his eyes crease as he closed them. Jackson cupped his arm, "I'm scared for you."

"Jackson, please… I'm not looking to cause trouble, I just need to do something."

"Please, tell me what happened."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

The answer didn't come easily, it was clearly on the tip of Aaron's tongue, wanting to find light, looking for escape. Aaron stuttered, "Because you'll hate me forever."

Jackson looked into his wide eyes and knew it wasn't possible. In that moment, he trusted Aaron, realised that this was about atonement, not doing anything stupid. But if Aaron had killed Daniels, then what would happen if he confessed to his wife? Was Aaron's intention to even confess? Did he just want to check up on the woman?

He nodded minutely, "OK, you're not getting that address. But I will take you there myself."

It was the closest that Aaron got to getting what he wanted. Jackson could see him weighing up the pros and cons. "Ok, but you're not coming in."

"OK."

They walked over to Jackson's van slowly, Aaron set the pace and it was clear how anxious he was. Before he started the engine, Jackson turned to him, "Are you OK?"

Aaron's breathe came out shakily, "Yeah, come on."

They left the village, heading towards their previous location. This Louise woman hadn't moved far, just the other side of the main high street in Robblesfield, ten minutes closer than when they'd previously driven over. When he pulled up to the curb, Aaron didn't move. "So, here we are."

"Yeah."

"It's that one." Her new house was larger than the last, the drive grander in appearance. There was still a 'sold' sign standing in the garden.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jackson spied Aaron jerk, as if his mind was stopping something that his body wanted to do. He remembered how Aaron had psyched himself up the last time and knew he was doing the same now. "Aaron, if you tell me what happened, I can help."

"No, you can't." With that, he climbed down from the van. Aaron's fists bunched up inside his sleeves in that way that had become his trademark. He took his time as he walked up the drive and hesitated before knocking on the door. Jackson leant forward in his seat to get a better look.

No one answered.

He watched Aaron notice the door bell and give it a ring. Again, there was no answer. After a second knock, Aaron's shoulders dropped. He didn't move from the door and he didn't turn around.

"Aaron?" He'd deliberated what to do. Stay in the van or go and see if he was OK. In the end, his worry ruled his decision. When Aaron turned around, it was clear that he was trying to hold off tears. "Come on."

Once back in the van, Jackson tried to console him. "She's just out, that's all. We can come back later."

Aaron didn't respond.

"You're just unlucky, that's all."

A humourless snort escaped Aaron. "Unlucky!" He wiped his nose on the back of his hand, "You're not wrong there!"

"Aaron, please, talk to me." A single tear leaked from the corner of Aaron's eye. "It will be OK, whatever happened, it's OK."

"You think I'm capable of murder?"

Jackson shrugged, "No, not cold-blooded. But I know how scared you get. If you panicked… or something. If he hurt you…" he let the sentence trail off.

"I didn't kill him." Jackson exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment, relieved. "But I am responsible for his death."

He grabbed Aaron's wrist, "OK."

"And he didn't rape me."

"So, who was he?"

Aaron swallowed, he looked out of his passenger window, seemingly transfixed as a postman walked past.

"Who was he?"

"He was my lover."

The sentence hung in the air, like particles dancing and bobbing around, daring Jackson to form images with them. "So, what happened?"

"I don't know where to start."

"Start from the beginning."

A second tear trailed Aaron's cheek.

Aaron had never been very good at talking. Almost every conversation needed to be dragged out of him with nudges and understanding looks. He often got tongue-tied and frustrated with his inability to express himself. But even with all the words in the world at his disposal, it all equalled to nothing. There was too much to every scene. There was smell and taste and emotions. His whole life had been a series of colliding senses too overwhelming to explain.

Jackson had said 'start from the beginning', but what was the beginning? That fateful day when he'd made a pact to get rid of the devil? The first horrifying time that Daniels bent him over the bed frame or was it the moment he realised they were sharing a cell?

He kept stopping and starting, veering off course. He got bogged down in describing a particular meal they'd had whilst inside and then wacked himself on the head for talking about something so trivial. Jackson reached out, "Calm down."

Aaron looked at his fingers now encased by another man's hand.

"Start again. Tell me about how you met Daniels."

Well, that really was the beginning, that very first day in prison. He swallowed hard.


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

**Hi everyone, I know it's been a really long time since my last update and I'm sorry. I am very busy at the moment but don't worry this story is never far from my mind. Someone asked if I had 'writer's block' and this is definitely not the case. **

**Thank you, Sylvain**

**I hope it was worth the wait.**

* * *

The plastic chair offered little resistance as Aaron slid further down onto it. He folded his arms and kept his head low, somehow believing that this would make him less visible to the other inmates around the rec room. Stalk was delivering mail again, and Aaron barely glanced in his direction, keen to hide even the tiniest glimpses of their alliance. Not that it mattered, Daniels wasn't even around. He was visiting one of the prison counsellors that they were all obliged to see once a week, even though Daniels had long since given up on him. Apparently, according to Daniels, his counsellor had deemed him utterly without remorse and with little chance of rehabilitation, which meant early parole was unlikely. "Doesn't it bother you?" Aaron had asked. To which Daniels had just shrugged, "I'd quite like to fuck Louise again before I'm too old to get it up, but hey, I can't be any one but the person I am."

His response had been bizarrely zen-like, just like so many things that came from the man's mouth and then he'd turned political.

"What bothers me more is they keep sending me to that twat of a counsellor, he's already deemed I'm not fit for society, surely it's just a waste of taxpayers money to send me there every fucking week." Aaron had had to agree, but he knew that this was also a lie. He knew that Daniels loved seeing his counsellor, loved giving him snippets of his life story, loved any reason to talk. Daniels was the ultimate performer, and having a captive audience thrilled the older man.

Though, in an act of genuine empathy, Daniels also believed that Aaron going to a counsellor was important. "Gotta sort out all that deep-seated teenage angst you've got pent up in there," he'd gently knocked Aaron on the side of the head, "how else are you going to become a law-abiding citizen, ready to do your bit and enter into that shitty work place scheme that your probation worker will line up for you upon your release?"

"I've probably still got a job at my cousin's garage when I leave."

Daniels eyed him for a second, "all right then, it's a good thing because unlike with me it's probably saving taxpayers money."

"How?"

"Well, if you don't leave here a nice adjusted young man, then you might just decide to do away with yourself again. Just think of all that public money being spent out. That copper who finds your body, the ambulance driver, the helicopter pilot, mountain rescue, the paramedic, autopsy. The cleaner who's gonna have to wash down the blood off the pavements..."

"Just how am I gonna kill myself?"

"I dunno, I'm just covering all options."

Aaron had laughed.

They'd had that conversation a week before everything had changed, the week before Daniels had paid for Simmons to attack him, the week before he began to look upon Daniels with disgust, and the week before he and Stalk became allies.

Stalk walked over to him and dropped a letter onto the table, their eyes didn't meet.

It was all planned, the pieces had come together and they were implementing it later that day. All they needed was Daniels to return from his session and a minor location adjustment that wouldn't be hard to achieve.

Aaron had never felt more nervous in his life, never felt more out of depth. He didn't know what the repercussions of this would be and it terrified him, but at the same time, Aaron felt sure that he needed to do this. He was so out of control, so lost. For a time, he'd started to believe the him he used to be didn't make any sense, but now he took comfort in that person who never let anyone have anything over on him. He wanted to be that person again. He wanted to be someone that everyone left alone, wanted to be an impenetrable wall. Because caring messed everything up, caring got you into trouble, it lay you open and bare.

On that first morning of his sentence, Goldie had called him a 'tough little idiot'. And he had been then, barely, after everything he could only just cling to that title. Now he was going to find that guy, be him again, and he was going to start with putting Daniels in line.

After that, no one would dare mess with him.

The opening of the gate drew Aaron's attention and he watched Daniels swagger in, a quick glance around confirmed that Stalk had long gone and Aaron sighed. There couldn't be an altercation between the two, not today, and had Daniels seen Stalk, then there would have been no way that they could have parted without at least one set of fists flying. Nothing could stop his plans.

Daniels dropped down in a chair opposite him, he gave a small smile that grew as his eyebrows raised.

"How was counselling?"

"Fucked." He dragged a nearby chair towards him and rested a foot on it.

"No understanding in the error of your ways?"

"Nope, he won't give up though. Today, I told him about God and Noah's Ark and the parallels to my general behaviour."

"Ok."

"He then told me of a research project that's studying sociopaths. I told him that I'd never been diagnosed. Apparently, he doesn't think that will be a problem."

"So, you're going to get diagnosed then?"

Daniels chatted his teeth, "Yeah, and who says I've got nothing to look forward to!"

Inside, Aaron felt cold. He swallowed some rising bile and schooled his expression. He wasn't going to give the game away, not when they were so close, not when he was about to implement his plan.

"I'll tell you what though." Daniels slid lower in his chair, he reached an arm out beneath the table and stroked Aaron's leg, "I'm horny as hell."

Daniels always was after counselling, it was something to do with the power he had over his counsellor, whose job it was to just sit and listen to him. Daniels got to say anything he wanted and he got off on it. Afterwards, without fail, he'd want sex. Sometimes, he'd be able to wait until they were locked in their cell, other times he couldn't. Aaron noticed how much rougher the sex was, how far more domineering Daniels could be. He'd once told Aaron that sometimes he'd imagine that Aaron's mouth belonged to his counsellor, and when Aaron knelled before him, chocking and gagging, he pictured his face. Aaron couldn't say anything and there was no point being offended, things were how they were. Once Daniels had even said that, he pictured his own mother, he'd countered by saying it was a joke, but Aaron wasn't so sure. Daniels liked to fuck people and fuck with people, no doubt the two would get confused in his messed up mind.

Daniels lowered his hand beneath the waistline of his trouser and Aaron watched as he rubbed his own genitals. Aaron smiled internally, everything was happening exactly to plan, it was so simple, and he couldn't wait until he spelt everything out, until he got the chance to unveil just how easily Daniels had been played.

"You'll just have to wait until later."

Daniels pouted, "but I want to bend you over right now." Yeah, bend him over until the pressure was too much and Aaron could barely stand. He used to think he enjoyed it, but of course he didn't, how could anyone like being so used in such a way? A little niggle jumped to Aaron's mind, because he had enjoyed it and, even more, he'd liked how they joked and laughed whilst they recovered enough to go again. Aaron shook his head, he needed to remain focused.

"Why are you shaking your head? Come on, Aaron, don't be frigid." The hand stroking Aaron's leg moved higher and clasped his jean's zip, pulling it down. Daniels was leaning unnaturally to reach beneath the table and it was obvious to anyone looking what was going on. He felt a finger on his penis and Aaron couldn't stop his arousal.

The gate opened again, and Aaron sat up straight, the sound of the hinges creaking loudly pulling him from the moment. His eyes widened as he glanced towards the noise.

"What the hell?"

Simmons was being wheeled through by a guard, his leg out-stretched and wrapped in a cast. When Aaron looked back, Daniels was staring at him neutrally. "What happened to him?"

"It looks like he broke his leg."

A small thread of fear weaved through Aaron as he watched Simmons pass on the other side of the room. "Did you break his leg?" Another prison guard absently moved towards them and Daniels pursed his lips tightly.

Even in a wheelchair, even in a cast, Simmons seemed threatening. Only two weeks ago, Aaron had seen him as a loser, a joke. He now felt nauseous, on edge, there was an immediate need to hide that he felt to his core.

"You Ok?"

"Yeah."

Aaron didn't have time for this, he needed to re-focus. He had phase one of his revenge to complete. Shakily, he stood up. "I've got to go the library, I need to do something before my counselling session tomorrow."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"But the sound of snapping bones makes me want to do all sorts of naughty things."

Aaron swallowed, "Later."

"Not too much later, or I'll come and find you."

"Later."

* * *

'A list of things I hoped to achieve upon release'

That was the title on the otherwise blank computer document and so far Aaron had failed to write anything. Instead, he'd spent his time staring at the clock on the library wall, twenty minutes... fifty minutes... an hour and ten minutes, he knew it wouldn't take much longer.

That blank document remained blank. Apparently, this was one of those tasks that your counsellor ask you to do before you are considered for release, it looked good at your parole hearing. Aaron hadn't been asked yet, but it seemed as good a reason as any to explain why he'd been in the library for so long.

… An hour and twenty minutes.

And just like clockwork, he watched Daniels enter the library, catch his eye and motion for him to follow him down one of the book isles. Aaron did what he was told, just like a good boy.

He was immediately pressed against the shelf, his neck nuzzled with heavy breaths colliding against his skin. "You were taking too long."

"Sorry."

"I couldn't wait any longer."

"I got stuck on what I was doing."

Daniels' face hovered inches from his own and then he leant in to capture Aaron's lips. The kiss was slow and deep and Aaron looked around as they continued.

This area of the library had seen a lot of action, no doubt with Daniels being one of its most frequent visitors. The shelves were lined with large, dusty, old encyclopedias, they made for an impressive wall and an ideally secluded spot. Daniels had explained once that they absorbed the sounds well and the librarian (whose desk was at the other side of the large room) couldn't hear anything but the loudest groans.

It had started here, all those months ago, and all because Aaron hadn't been able to walk away.

"What's wrong?" Daniels was paused in front of him, his eyes narrowing.

"Nothing," Aaron responded.

"Yes, there is, you've been strange with me for days. Ever since..." he hesitated "...ever since Simmons attacked you.'' Daniels stepped back, "Don't pretend you haven't, I know you."

A flash of panic flitted through Aaron and he immediately thought he'd been sussed. But then, Daniels was cupping his face in one hand and smoothing down Aaron's hair, hair that had not been trimmed since his sentence, with the other. "I've seen it before, Aaron. I've seen guys after they've been raped-"

"-I wasn't raped."

"Yeah, I know, but you came close and I get it, I get how terrified you must have been, the fear from what you knew was going to happen, that shit can traumatise a person." Daniels wasn't smiling, wasn't looking off wistfully, nor was he seeming like he was trying to imagine it.

"I thought you got off on stuff like that?"

Daniels rested his head to Aaron's, "Nah, not with you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you ever again. I won't be the cause of it and I won't let anyone else hurt you in any way."

"Is that why you broke Simmons' leg?"

"Yeah," he held Aaron's face tighter. He whispered, "and when that's healed, I'm gonna break the other. And then his arm and then the other. I'm gonna terrorize him for the rest of his life or mine."

Aaron folded into him then, he let Daniels take his full weight, and stayed cocooned in his arms. He pressed his face to Daniels' chest with such force that no light escaped through Aaron's closed eye lids. Here he stayed and imagined Daniels' scenarios, lingering on the image of him braking Simmons arms. Those arms had pressed into his neck, forcing his naked body against the bathroom wall, they'd left him choking and then lashed out towards his cheek bone. They'd forced him to kneel on the floor and he'd been powerless as Simmons had pulled down his own trouser fly and in great detail described how he was going to rape Aaron. One of the clearest images he had was of the snake tattoo adorning Simmons right arm. When Daniels finally broke that arm, he hoped the bone would snap at the point where the snake's head meet its body.

Aaron pulled back, "What are you going to do after that?"

"Anything you want."

"I want you to break his neck."

"Then I'll do it."

Their lips meet again, slowly, barely pressing against one another. Aaron felt finger tips trail his sides. Daniels stopped, "I will do anything for you. _Anything_."

In that moment, he realised that this was all he'd ever wanted. He'd never had it, never existed with the security that he was so important to someone that they were willing to kill for him. This was it, the ultimate in belonging, he was someone's world. He'd never been that to his Mum or Dad, or anyone else, not even Paddy.

Aaron felt giddy with the knowledge, "I want you to fuck me."

"OK."

Slowly, he was turned to face the shelf, kisses moving around his neck and two hands found their way down the front of Aaron's jeans. Aaron pressed his arse into Daniels' crotch. He felt words, heavy with breath down his ear, "You are everything to me." Aaron's jeans and underwear were pulled down to his ankles and Daniels large hand was presented to Aaron's lips, he sucked on the fingers, coating them with saliva. "I'm going to give you the world, Aaron." His legs were gently kicked open. "It's you and me." Aaron groaned as fingers slid inside of him.

This wasn't quite how he'd pictured the moment, but then Daniels always had a way of flipping the situation, even when he had no idea of what was actually happening. Aaron thought it would be animalistic, rutting and frantic, but somehow maybe this loving exchange was better, to see genuine feeling and affection would surely be more devastating than empty sex.

These thoughts entered his consciousness and dissipated as Daniels exchanged his fingers for his penis. Aaron's breath held as his nipple was played with and another kiss landed on his turned cheek.

Somewhere, on the other side of the shelf, just about were Aaron had stood all those months ago, was Stalk. In his hand was a video recorder, he was recording the whole thing.

On the one hand, Aaron hoped that their plan would fail, perhaps Stalk wouldn't be able to get to the library or the batteries would run out. On the other hand, it added to the excitement. It was almost a little too sweet, he was having his cake and eating it. He belonged, he knew that now, he'd never had that before and didn't want it to end. But then, he also had power, in the truest sense of the word, something else that had long eluded him. Because he might have been getting fucked at that moment, but he was the one doing the fucking.


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

**OK guys, it's here. Please don't ever think I'm not going to finish this story. It's just that my free time is a little on the lean side these days.**

* * *

The words forming seemed utterly alien to Jackson and he couldn't help his heavy blink as Aaron paused in his story. At some point, the younger man had backed himself into the corner of the van seat and detached himself from Jackson's hand. Jackson hadn't stopped him. He was struggling to look at Aaron, whose words contradicted what he knew of him. Aaron, a manipulator? Aaron, someone who could use sex to exact revenge? The kid he'd met less than a year ago was not the man of this tale. That kid could barely cope with a kiss, this man openly sought sexual encounters.

He spared a glance at Aaron, who looked back, his eyes wide. "Say something."

Jackson couldn't, he was still sifting through the information.

"Prison sounded awful." He could have kicked himself for his ridiculously understated comment but then Jackson didn't know what else to say. At least, Aaron didn't answer it with an incredulous response. "I'm sorry about everything that's happened to you."

"But what about what I did?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean everything." Aaron bit on his bottom lip. "I became a sordid little prison bitch."

"No, you didn't."

"I didn't? I tricked a man and I did it by allowing him to shove his cock up my arse."

This language was shocking to Jackson; when had it so openly entered Aaron's vernacular? How had he gone from that scared guy too afraid to utter anything that even alluded to his sexuality to one sitting in his van churning out vulgar terms through gritted teeth? But then Jackson knew the answer, knew it because he'd just spent the last hour listening to the horrific details. He reached out a hand, "You did what you had to."

Aaron snorted and pulled away.

"So, what happened next. Did Daniels come after you?"

There was a pause, "No, he didn't come after me. He came looking for me. He was scared, I'd only ever seen that expression on his face once, after Simmons attacked me. He had no idea I was even behind it."

"So, what happened?"

Aaron's head dropped to his hands. "I was in the library storeroom. I'd been keeping away, terrified at what I had done and what would happen next. Ironically, my counsellor had finally asked me to compile that list of 'things I'd hoped to achieve upon my release' and there was no paper in the printer. I'd been given permission to go to the store room. I have no idea how Daniels found me there."

* * *

"Aaron." Fear leapt to Aaron's heart the minute the heavy storeroom door was pulled closed and Daniels uttered his name. He turned to find Daniels was moving back and forth around the five-foot squared room, his expression was one of panic.

"What's wrong?" The words barely formed.

A sudden roar escaped Daniels lips and he smashed a fist against a metal-rimmed shelf lining the wall. The crashing rattled loudly in the confines of the room.

"He's done it. I don't know how but he's done it." There were gasps and stuttering and a fleeting look of madness on Daniels face.

"D-ddone whhat?"

Another fist flew into a shelf and blood bubbled up from the grazes on Daniels knuckles. "That bastard, he's done it. He's got to Louise, he's got a video of you and me."

"What?" The door was blocked by Daniels large frame as he crashed his head back against the wall.

"Her solicitor has just showed some stills. It's you and me in the library. It's me fucking you!"

This was it, the moment that Aaron had envisioned, the result that had begun this spiralling sequence of events. Aaron didn't like the fear he felt, it didn't match his expectation, didn't fit the image he had when all this began. This was about sending a message, getting his revenge, gloating glaringly as Daniels fell apart. He wasn't meant to be cowering in the corner, wasn't meant to be terrified.

Daniels was still talking, "I don't know what she's gonna do. What is she gonna do? She's gonna leave me, I know it, I know it!"

Even now, Daniels had no idea. He was looking to Aaron for help, just like one would from someone they considered their partner. For a moment it made Aaron smile, made him forget what all this was about. In that moment he part-compartmentalised his actions and just wanted to reach out to the man that had become everything to him.

"It will be OK."

Daniels looked at him like he was out of his mind, "How will it be OK?"

"I don't know." Aaron stepped forward, he pulled at Daniels' arms, "It's OK."

"She's all I've ever known, we've been together since we were kids."

"I know."

He was three people right now. The first was a terrified kid, looking for escape. The second, a man intent on protecting Daniels, who felt overwhelming emphatic desperation. And finally, a creature full of contempt. This creature had done this, he had achieved this. He was all powerful, he was now God and Daniels was just a scared creature moments from drowning.

Daniels pulled away. "I'm gonna get the fucker, I'm gonna fucking kill him." Bared teeth and wide eyes shone. "He ain't getting his hands on her. I'll fucking kill Stalk before he gets his hands on her. I'll kill her as well."

Watching the other man turn red with fury, Aaron suddenly felt a sense of self preservation. He'd never really experienced it before, always running head first into any dangerous situation with little regard for his life. It would have been simple, so simple just to allow Daniels to continue with this tirade. To let him run off and find Stalk, to watch him rip him to shreds and deny any involvement. Aaron almost laughed. What was he anyway? What was he to be saved and protected? What was he? He was nothing and to remain silent would mean returning to that snivelling creature he'd become.

He'd set out on this mission, he'd started the ball rolling. When God flooded the earth, he didn't hide away, didn't panic in the corner regretting his decision. He stood proud, that's what Daniels said. He said that all those people had understood exactly what was happening.

They'd understood and that's exactly what was going to happen now.

Aaron swallowed, "It was me."

There was this sort of dazed look to Daniels' face that instantly replaced the anger. He blinked each eye in succession and then again, as if the second time he was trying to synch the movements.

Aaron pushed himself from the wall. "I set it up, I told Stalk where to find us." His heart thudded like a ball bouncing between the confines of a tight space. "I knew he had the video camera, I gave him Louise's address from one of the envelopes in our cell."

There was a slight jerking to Daniels features, maybe a thousand tiny currents of electricity surging through him. "Why?"

This was it, the moment Aaron had been waiting for. The big question. The big reveal. This moment required attitude, it required style, the perfect one-liner otherwise nothing had changed. He squared his shoulders.

"Because you fucked with me and nobody fucks with me."

Normally, when such a perfect line is uttered in a film, that's the end. The point when the protagonist has won. The bad guys never get up, revenge was not sought. The drowning citizens of earth do not charge at God.

Life was not a film.

Aaron felt the hands around his neck long before he heard the charge. Daniels was in front of him, two eyes too large for his face. Spittle hit Aaron's lips as he was screamed at. "How could you do this to me?"

Aaron clawed at the fingers gripping him. "Simmons," he chocked out, and was released.

"Simmons, Simmons?" The roar of Daniels' words engulfed the small room.

"You set Simmons up to attack me!" A fist landed on Aaron's face and an explosion of blood spurted forth. Aaron lifted his arms to protect himself but it was no use, he was always no match for the giant in front of him with the giant strength.

Another blow was felt, this time to Aaron's temple and then a third. He crumpled to the floor, an eye instantly swelling. Daniels was going to kill him, this was obvious. Maybe Aaron had always known this, maybe that's why he'd done it. He was ready to end.

The front of his clothes was gripped and Aaron rattled as he was shaken. "She's going to leave me!" Oh yeah, that was what this was about. The pain pulsating Aaron's body had momentarily made him forget. This was what it was all about. Revenge. Daniels alone. Aaron victorious, and yeah, so what if he was dead. At the end of it, he'd be the one standing there smirking down next to God.

Aaron pulled his lips back revealing gritted teeth, sure that they shone bright red. "Yeah, she's gonna leave you." His torso dangled from Daniels' arms, "I hope it was worth it, what you got Simmons to do to me. I hope when the divorce papers come through, it was all worth it!"

"What I got Simmons to do to you, what I got him to do!" Aaron was released and Daniels dropped to his knees. His punches landed indiscriminately. "You don't know what I got Simmons to do to you. You don't know even the half of what I paid him to do! He did half a job. He got you to your knees but didn't manage to even get his cock in your mouth!"

Through the swarm of pain and wavering of vision, Aaron looked up into Daniels eyes.

"That's right! I paid Simmons to rip you a new one."

"Wha-?"

"He was going to make you wish you'd never been born and then he was going to put an end to your miserable, pathetic life. You hated being gay? Well he was going to sort that but not before he reminded you of the faggot you are!"

No, no, no, that wasn't right, "but you broke his leg!"

"Yeah, he needed to be punished for doing a shit job. I needed to do something to convince you not to go running to the guards about what happened!"

"You bastard!" Aaron lunged weakly, wanting a fist to connect with Daniels jaw but his hand was easily caught.

"There I was, in our cell, crying over my poor Aaron. Crying because the piece of shit was still in my life! You should have been a corpse. You should be a corpse now!"

This wasn't right, this wasn't how it should have ended. Aaron didn't mind the death part, welcomed it even. But not like this, even with death, Aaron was meant to have the last laugh. He now knew nothing though, in this moment Aaron realised that he had no idea what the the truth between them was. Crazed eyed looked at at him. Daniels now appeared inhuman, but then how could anyone without the tiniest bit of humanity ever have been human in the first place.

"I thought..." Aaron choked out. The panting beast above him rose. "I thought..."

"You make me sick! You were a hole to shove my dick! You were an annoyance that I wore like shackles! I wanted you dead!"

This was it, the truth. He'd never belonged after all, his sense of security was a thin veil. Why should he even be surprised, this was how it had always been. Aaron thought back over his life, being abandoned by his Mum and then Dad. As if in prison he was ever going to find a sense of place. He'd never had that person that would do anything for him. He was alone.

A moment of complete indifference washed over Aaron. He had a clarity and there was a giddiness that accompanied his disregard of consequence. His lips split as he smiled, "Do you think Louise will come to my funeral?"

Daniels roared. He punched and hit and kicked. This was how it was going to end. Daniels in a blind rage from Aaron's final words. But at least he'd had the last word and that was all that mattered. Through his swollen eyes, Aaron could see how out of control Daniels was, could see the burning rage, could see the malicious cruelty that Aaron knew he was capable of. Daniels stooped, was paused in his face, his heavy breaths pushed out between gritted teeth. He was just staring.

Hands suddenly reached for Aaron's belt.

"What...," Aaron barely gasped. Instinctively, he reached to stop Daniels' hands but another blow to his face ended with him face down to the ground. The edges of his vision darkened. He could feel himself dying. It was like he'd been looking through the slitted gaps of a mask and was now slowly retreating.

A hissing was felt beside his ear. "I'm gonna finish the job Simmons started." Aaron was pulled in into a sitting position. Daniels was unrecognisable, his teeth now fangs, his hands claws. Or maybe this was just Aaron's imagination, his skin colour had certainly changed at least, or was this just from all of Aaron's blood?

"I'm gonna shove my cock up your arse one last time."

Aaron knew that his trousers were being tugged at. He felt a distant sense of panic.

I'm gonna let you know exactly what you were to me."

Daniels stood, his form wavering, becoming solid and then faint. Aaron saw Daniels pull down his trousers to reveal his penis. His vision blackened and for a second he was aware of nothing before coming to again.

"You were an object to me, Aaron. A possession, something I bought off again and again. Remember poor little Haines, that guy who met his end? Remember what he said about me paying you for sex? Well, here's the truth of it, Aaron." He brought his lips to Aaron's ear. "I owned you, just like I owned him. I did what I wanted to both of you and you were just a disgusting little whore, doing anything I demanded. And when I was done with him, I ended him. Just like I'm going to do to you now."

So, this was it, the repercussion. Him raped in the prison library storeroom before bleeding to death. He didn't feel fear, he didn't feel anything anymore. He was nothing anyway, certainly not something that deserved a last-minute save. He briefly thought of Jackson, his only real sense of regret. In a way, he was almost glad it was ending like this. He was dying in the manner that had always been his life. Fucked.

At least he was consistent.

Aaron's eyelids closed and his head lulled and the last thing he was aware of was Daniels large hands on his thighs.


	26. Chapter Twenty Five

There was little of anything at first. Just soft outlines and the odd sound penetrating and this could have gone on for minutes or days. A woman was there, her raven-coloured hair draped over him as she rested her head and a stout man sat nearby who chatted softly. Pain broke through soon after.

"Aaron." He could barely breath through the agony. "It's going to be OK, the Doctor is coming." His eyes barely worked, his vision was narrower. He gritted his teeth but a new wave of pain overcame his senses.

"Don't move, Aaron, you're in hospital. They're going to look after you."

He lost consciousness after that.

The drip down his throat hurt but then it was indistinguishable to every other ounce of pain Aaron felt. They had him on morphine, making everything only just tolerable. His Mum constantly asked the Doctors if there were more they could do for him. Apparently, there wasn't.

"What can you remember, Mr. Livesy?" The police were sympathetic despite his prisoner status.

"He's got swelling on the brain." They left him alone.

It was some time later, when his pain had started to ebb away and the turbulent waves of his confusion mellowed to soft ripples that he considered his predicament.

He remembered it all.

The doctor sat down with him on the third day and listed his injuries. Three cracked ribs, two fractured bones and one broken nose. He was also covered in bruises and swelling.

"The good news is that the swelling on the brain is going down and I don't believe there is any permanent damage."

But what about what Daniels did to him at the end? What about the rape? Why wasn't the doctor delicately asking him about the sexual assault? Aaron swallowed a sickly feeling and forced himself not to think about it.

He was lucky to be alive and told so by everyone who came to visit him. The police implored him to tell them what he remembered and so did his Mum and Paddy.

"I want the scum who did this to you to get sent down for a long time." Aaron refrained from telling his mother that the person who did this had already been sent down for a long time.

"Who was it Aaron?"

He told them the attacker had got him from behind and he didn't know who it was. The police had been dubious and explained that all his injuries were to his front. Aaron countered by saying that he just must have memory loss because he really didn't know anything. No one believed him, them all thinking that he was scared and even offering to place him in witness protection.

"Aaron," his Mother cried on the third day, "I'm scared that you'll end up back with the person that did this to you." It was almost certain. Daniels was his cell mate and unless they had reason to charge him, then Aaron would end right back in that cell.

How did he feel about this. Scared, sick. He felt a small wave of panic when he thought about what Daniels had done to him.

And yet, no one asked about the sexual assault.

The suspects included four men who were only being interviewed because they had left their cell blocks around the time of the attack but had yet to arrive at their destination, the library. Daniels was one of them.

The detective interviewing Aaron had not even raised an eyebrow when discussing Daniels. "I'm told that you two are lovers?" This was instantly denied.

This wasn't about protecting Daniels. This was about finishing off the job Aaron started. He may be broken at the moment but his sense of revenge still lingered stronger than ever. He didn't know what his next move was but it couldn't be a simple confession to the police.

On the seventh day, Aaron couldn't hide from his questions any longer. The sexual assault flashed in his mind's eye, those hands on his thighs and the heavy, smug gloat whispered in his ear was at times all he was aware of.

"Doctor." His doctor was checking the bruising on his thigh. Aaron had flinched, the memory still too raw.

"Are you OK, Mr. Livesy?"

"Do I have any other injuries?" The Doctor straightened up and looked at him. "Any other?"

"Yeah," Aaron's throat went dry, maybe ignorance was better. "I mean from the ones you told me about."

"No, there were no others."

"Did you check everywhere."

"Everywhere?"

Aaron expelled a shaky breath. "Why don't you tell me more specifically what you mean, Mr. Livesy."

But he couldn't, he couldn't say the words out loud. He still felt Daniels rough beard on his cheek as he'd boasted, still felt his insides twist as he imagined how Daniels had forcefully entered him. "It doesn't matter."

Something in the doctor shifted and he suddenly seemed to understand the nature of Aaron's query. "Mr. Livesy," the doctor spoke delicately, "do you believe that you were sexually assaulted?"

Aaron couldn't respond.

"What do you think happened to you?"

Aaron shrugged.

"OK," the doctor placed a hand on Aaron's arm but it wasn't welcomed. "OK, when you came in we checked you for signs of sexual assault, this is standard procedure for when someone arrives in your condition from a prison."

Aaron held his breath.

"There was no sign of any sexual activity. There was no sign of forcible penetration, no sign of swelling or bruising around your anus or genitals. You have no bite marks or anything similar that fell into the time frame of your attack. And as I understand it, there were no signs of such an attack where you were found."

This didn't seem right to Aaron, he had a clear picture of Daniels pushing his own trousers to his knees before pulling down Aaron's. He could still remember Daniels explanation, word for word, as it was carefully spelt out what was going to happen to him.

"Are you sure?" Aaron felt his breath hitch.

"Yes. But if there is even a chance that something like this happened, then we need to have it investigated. I should examine you again."

"Are you saying that you didn't do a good enough job the first time?"

"No."

"In court, if you were giving evidence, would you be able to say that there was any sign of... that type of attack?"

The doctor looked dejected, "Well no, but-"

"Well, that's fine then, please leave me alone."

"Mr. Livesy…"

"I said it's fine."

So Daniels hadn't raped him. Why not? A sudden eruption of tears flowed down Aaron's cheeks and he felt overwhelming despair. A nurse ran in to console him but Aaron wanted to be left alone. He understood his emotion, it was from the relief at not having been subjected to such an attack, his confusion as to why not and his shock at everything that had happened. It took him hours to calm down.

* * *

Two weeks in hospital to recover from his injuries and then he would be transferred to the prison hospital. By the middle of the second week, Aaron had turned yellow, his mass of bruises healing simultaneously causing him to look jaundiced. The two fractures on his arm were mending well, neither particularly serious, and he was only going to be in a cast for a total of three weeks. In the end, it all equalled to very little and Aaron felt almost bitter at having gone through something so awful only to have nothing permanent to show for it.

The police couldn't pin the attack on anyone. They, of course, found forensic evidence linking Daniels to Aaron but then Aaron admitted that their relationship was sexual after all and that they had even been together before in the library storeroom; this wasn't a lie.

Why was Aaron protecting Daniels? It was because it couldn't end like this. Daniels would just be given an even longer sentence and possibly a move to another prison, certainly another block. But this couldn't be the final chapter, Aaron was not yet victorious. Daniels needed to lose Louise, this ultimate aim not forgotten. Sometimes, it was all Aaron could think about whilst alone in the hospital bed. He'd sit, lips pursed tightly, trying to stop himself from being sick or crying or screaming until he lost his voice. His mind was a jumble of confused thoughts as he recalled everything he had gone through at the hands of Daniels, every twisted emotion. He was exhausted, and spent and the thought that play louder and louder, over every other, was why hadn't Daniels raped him?

"Aaron"

Adam nudged Aaron's thigh bringing him back to the current moment and Aaron smiled weakly.

"Where'd you go, then?" This kept happening, Aaron would drift off, consumed by his memories, the presence of whoever beside him forgotten. He'd panicked his Mum and Paddy, and no doubt Adam would tell them about it now.

"Sorry."

"No worries, what were you thinking about?" He couldn't tell Adam, his only true friend about this, could he? Could he tell him about this man who was old enough to be his father and how he'd never felt that way about someone before? Could he explain the fear that led to hurried sex and the feelings of belonging that crumpled to nothing? Aaron swallowed, Adam's caring eyes were encouraging. Could he tell him about the Library storeroom and the moments before when he thought he was going to be raped? And would Adam be able to figure out why Daniels never went through with it?

"I was thinking that in five weeks, I will be out of prison and it can't come quickly enough."

Adam's false smile relayed that he knew Aaron was lying.

"Yeah, mate."

* * *

Aaron had left the Library at 3:15 p.m., the reason stated was to go to the prison storeroom. This was fact as he had signed out before leaving. It was 3:55 p.m. when they had discovered Aaron, this again was fact because the Prison Warden had entered the Library and upon signing in asked why prisoner Livesy had not signed his return. Frenzy had ensued and then they'd found Aaron and now both the Librarian and Prison Guard on duty were suspended until it was established just why Prisoner Livesy was not looked for after he failed to re-materialise in good time. None of this was consequential to Aaron, who couldn't give a shit about the staff. What did pique his interest was the forty minutes that went by in that time.

Aaron knew that he went straight to the storeroom and he knew that Daniels had entered before he had time to even pick up the paper for the printer. The attack began within a few minutes of Daniels arriving and lasted for little longer. All in all, this could have only taken them to 3:25 p.m., giving a window of 30 minutes, plenty of time for Daniels to rape him.

Why hadn't Daniels raped him? This question was starting to consume every conscious thought. Was he interrupted by someone walking the halls? Had he changed his mind? Had Aaron lost consciousness and so the appeal became lost? Was he going to leave for another day? Fear coiled in Aaron's chest, was this Daniels' plan, to wait for Aaron's return, wait until he was well and then assault him all over again? Daniels was certainly capable.

'Shit, shit' Aaron's body started convulsing. This was Daniels' plan, of course, the sadistic, egocentric nature of Daniels' personality would want Aaron to be aware of exactly what was happening to him. Daniels saw himself as a god, wanted to constantly emulate the chaos and fear of a final reckoning. There was no way he'd allow Aaron to simply sleep through it.

Fuck, he couldn't go through it again, couldn't face another terrifying confrontation. He needed to tell the police. Aaron twisted, breathing through the pain of his bruises and reached for the call button. He froze before his fingers hit.

What did it matter anyhow against the revenge he wanted to commit against Daniels? How could he keep his head held high and his pride intact if he went running to the police? Somehow, death seemed preferable to the existence of his weak-mindedness.

Prison had made him weak.

Daniels had made him weak.

Being gay had made him weak.

He was going to see this through to the end. He needed to know what was happening. In here, in this hospital bed, Aaron was out of the loop. He didn't know what was happening between Daniels and Louise. Didn't know if he'd threatened her into staying with him of if the divorce lawyers had been properly called in. He wasn't going to find out here, he needed to get back to the prison.

He needed to see everything Daniels held dear, ripped away from him.

Aaron pressed that button and in walked a nurse; later that day, he was being discharged.


End file.
